Silver Lining
by luvs-to-write2
Summary: The mysterious Jamie Silver moves to town and gets involved with Stiles. The story starts the day after the end of season 2. I don't usually do OC, but nobody on Teen Wolf seems to appreciate Stiles' sense of humor so I had to invent someone who would.
1. Chapter 1 - New Girl

**Chapter 1 - New Girl**

_Lydia._ That's all Stiles could think about as he sat in Coach Finstock's homeroom the morning after Jackson rose from his lizard-like death and went all wolfy on them. Kaminas don't get the girl. Dorky humans obviously don't get the girl. But werewolves – they're apparently a huge turn on for girls. Friggin' Twilight. No, wait, that guy only got a creepy baby. OK, friggin' True Blood.

Stiles had had a crush on Lydia Martin since third grade and for years he survived her utter lack of knowledge of his existence by keeping up the lie that if only she knew him, she'd fall madly, deeply in love with him. But this…this getting closer to her, interpreting her every action as a sign of interest, getting his hopes up only to have them crushed by the reality that she still preferred the guy who treated her like garbage. This sucked 1000x worse.

Scott wanted them to keep busy – practice lacrosse, hang out, and just do everything possible to not think about Lydia and Allison. Easy for him to say. Scott and Allison would be together again. Once she got over the fact that dear old granddaddy had tricked her into becoming a mad killing machine. Stiles knew he was never, ever getting together with Lydia Martin. *God* He couldn't even say "back together." At least Taylor Swift had relationships to sing about, messed up as they were. Wait, wasn't one of her relationships with that werewolf dude from Twilight? There's a pattern there.

Screw lacrosse. Screw hanging out and pretending to have fun so he didn't bring Scott down. He needed time to wallow alone. He'd skip lacrosse. He was so far down the team totem pole, Coach Finstock wouldn't even notice he was missing. And he'd go the library at lunch, tell Scott he had a project or something. OK, so Scott wouldn't believe that. Maybe he'd –

"Stilinski!"

Stiles' head shot up. He couldn't have missed a question. It was only homeroom. A girl in ripped jeans and a black leather jacket that was three sizes too large stood next to Coach Finstock, blonde hair hiding her face as she faced the teacher.

Finstock addressed the girl, "Stilinski will be happy to show you around today. But don't keep him after school – our newest lacrosse star can't miss practice. The coach gave a grin that was more like a grimace as he waved the girl to a seat on the other side of the classroom.

Dragging his hand down his face, Stiles sunk low in his seat. He couldn't skip lacrosse. And now he was supposed to be the friggin' Welcome Wagon for some new girl. _Yay. Let's all get our happy on._

* * *

The bell rang and Stiles hurried to escape the classroom. But his conscience had him pause in the hall, reluctantly waiting for his one person tour group. She emerged a minute later, weighed down with what looked like textbooks for every one of her classes. With her hair out of her face, Stiles got his first real look at her. Her piercing blue-green eyes contradicted the innocent smattering of freckles across her cheeks. The combination was stunning, if he'd been into blondes, rather than redheads, that is.

"Do you need some help with those?" Stiles reached out a hand, shakily.

The girl stepped back, holding her textbooks tighter. "I'm fine," she snapped , walking away. Ah, now that attitude he recognized, whether it came from a blonde or a redhead.

Stiles shook it off. _Whatever_. He kept pace with her. "So this is the main hall. And these are the lockers. They're a hideous orange on purpose so we don't linger. These are classrooms." It took Stiles another few seconds of less-than-scintillating color commentary to realize the girl had stopped walking. He jogged back to her.

She sighed. "I'm sure you'd rather be hanging out with your lacrosse buddies than babysitting the new girl. I'll be fine with the school map they gave me at the office."

Relief washed over Stiles. For once he was glad girls hated spending time with him. "OK, great, I'll see you around then."

The girl hadn't made it too far down the hall when Stiles felt a sharp thwap to back of his head. He spun around to see Scott glaring at him. "What the Hell was that for?"

"Dude, you totally blew off the new girl. Who, by the way, you're supposed to be showing around."

"How did you know I was supposed to…?" Then Stiles remembered. "Since you've been using your pointy ears for evil, you must have also heard that she's the one who blew me off. She doesn't need me to babysit her, she has a map."

"A map?"

Stiles spoke more slowly. "Yes, those paper things people used before GPS's were invented. And that we're all going to have to start using again now that Apple screwed up the iPhone."

Scott rolled his eyes. "So she has that same map we got in grade 9? The one that's a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy of a hand drawing done by an illiterate drunken janitor before the east wing was added to the school. There are probably 300 year old treasure maps that are easier to read than that thing."

Stiles' shoulders dropped. He was going to have to put on his happy face after all.


	2. Chapter 2 - Happy Faces

Textbooks held awkwardly under one arm, Jamie squinted at the piece of paper in her hand. She'd seen 300 year old treasure maps that were easier to read than this thing. According to the map, the hall she was in didn't exist. She hated to admit it but she could use some help finding her first class. Not that she'd ask that lacrosse player to help her. The look of horror on his face when he found out he was supposed to show the girl in the hand-me-down clothes around school – he couldn't get away from her fast enough. And the way he stared at her in the hall like she was some sort of freak. Ugh! Jocks. They were the same in every school.

"What class are you looking for?" came a voice from behind her.

Books clattered to the floor as Jamie spun around, brandishing her largest textbook as a weapon.

Stiles jumped back, holding his hands out in front of him. "Whoa! Jumpy, much?" Keeping a wary eye on her, he slowly crouched to pick up her books.

She bent down with him. She didn't need help. She sighed. OK, if she had any hope of making it to class before next week, she might need a teensy tiny bit of help. She bit back her pride. "I'm hoping to find my locker before class so I don't have to lug these books around anymore. But I have no idea where my locker or my class are. For all I know they're at opposite ends of the school."

"Are you sure you want to put all your books in your locker?" He held up Jamie's second most menacing textbook and raised one eyebrow. "How will you defend yourself?"

Jamie gave a tight smile. He was just joking. No need for him to know she also had a dagger in her boot. "I'll have to get creative."

The guy smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Stiles. Everyone calls me Stiles." He picked up her registration form, "and you're…Jamison Silver?" His eyes narrowed as he glanced up at her. "Interesting name." His golden eyes scanned her, seeming to peer right into her.

Jamie shifted uncomfortably, her arms wrapping the textbooks against her chest. "I go by Jamie. Which you'd know if you were listening when Coach Finstock introduced me. Jamison is my mother's maiden name." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to defend herself. She was proud of both her names. And why was he still staring at her?

"It was your last name I was talking about. Silver in French is Argent, isn't it?"

Jamie froze. She hadn't heard that name in a long time. She cleared her throat, buying time. "And Stilinski in French is still Stilinski. Your point?"

"Nothing, just that there's an Allison Argent that goes here." Stiles looked at her carefully. "You're not related, are you?"

_Aw, Hell._ How had they managed to miss that particular detail about Beacon Hills? Jamie shook her head a little too vigorously. "No, they're not even the same language. My family is from England. Hers is probably France, or Belgium, or French Congo, when it was called French Congo. Not related at all." Now she was babbling.

Stiles gave her another curious look before going back to her registration form. "You're in luck. Your locker is just across the hall from your first class." He motioned her ahead and they started walking as the bell rang. "English, Biology, History. Wow, no wonder I got volunteered for Welcome Wagon. We have three classes together, plus homeroom." He stopped in front of locker #827. "And, your locker is three down from mine. He spun the dial, popped it open and swung the door open.

You could tell a lot about a person by their locker. What was Stiles' like? Jamie stepped closer. Empty. "I see you're going for a minimalistic look."

He laughed. "This is your locker. Mine is #830."

Jamie grabbed the registration form from Stiles. Sure enough, #827 and the locker combination. "It's creepy that you now know my locker combination."

Stiles shrugged. "Creepy is a step up from icky. I'll take it."

Jamie wondered at a jock using self-deprecating humor, but not for too long as she noticed they were the only ones left in the hall. "We're late."

"It's OK, we're right across the hall for English. Besides, I've got a buy. I've been showing the new girl the ropes." He put her textbooks on the top shelf.

How had Jamie not noticed that Stiles had been carrying most of her books? She dumped the remaining few on the bottom of her locker and hung up her jacket. Grabbing a binder back out, she started searching for a book that looked like it would be for English.

Stiles held out a small paperback. _The Crucible._ - a tale of hysteria, those falsely accused and their accusers. At least she understood the material.

Together, they walked into English class. "How far through The Crucible are we?" Jamie asked.

But Stiles wasn't listening. He was too busy watching a couple on one side of the classroom, huddled together, holding hands. Obviously the school power couple. The girl, with a lush mane of red hair, smiled at Stiles, but it dropped off her face when she spotted Jamie beside him. Hmm, some sort of history there. It shouldn't take her long to figure out what the story was.

Jamie shook her head. _What was she thinking?_ There were plenty of things that needed investigating in Beacon Hills, and the relationship between Stiles and the redhead wasn't one of them. She focused on the male member of the power couple. Good looking in an uptight preppy kind of way, he had no hidden backstory. His sneer was there for everyone to see as he sized her up, took in her clothing, and found her lacking. Asshole.

"You're late, Stiles," the female teacher closed the door behind them.

"I sacrificed my perfect attendance record to be a good Samaritan, helping Jamie here find our class."

"Perfect attendance? You were late three times last week."

"But this is the first time I've been late this week."

"It's only Monday." She shook her head at Stiles. "But good of you to help Jamie get here. When Allison Argent first moved to town she missed my first class completely. That's what I get for being in the wing that doesn't exist."

There was that name again. The Argents hadn't been in town long. That would explain the bad intel. She'd have to look into that. But if there were Argents here, she was on the right track. And as much as she hated to admit it, Stiles was growing on her. He was funny, in a smart-ass kind of way. But she liked smart asses – had been called one herself more than once.


	3. Chapter 3 - Too Many Silvers

Scott plunked himself down across from Stiles in the cafeteria. "So, what's the new girl like?"

"The new girl's name is Jamie Silver." Stiles paused, waiting for a reaction.

"I know, she's in math with Allison and me." Scott bit into his meatloaf. "And…what's she like?"

"SILVER. As in Argent in English. As in, she might be here to kill you."

"Did you ask her about it?" Scott asked in a meatloaf-muffled voice.

"Yeah, I asked her point-blank if she was a werewolf hunter here to take out my best friend. Give me a little more credit than that. I just said there's an Allison Argent here and could they be related."

"And?"

"And she said no."

Scott went back to eating. "All right then."

"Of course she said no!" Stiles waved his hands around. "She's not going to admit to it."

Scott shrugged. "Silver is a common name. There's a girl named Silver on 90210...although I guess it doesn't count if it's her first name."

Stiles stared at his friend. "I'm not even going to ask how you know that. But there's one way to find out the truth." He scanned the cafeteria, before spotting his target and waving frantically. "YO, ALLISON!"

Scott's eyes went wide. "Why are you calling my ex-girlfriend over here?" he whispered. Then he smiled awkwardly as Allison arrived at their table. "Oh…hey…how are you?"

Allison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "OK, I guess. We survived last night, that's good."

Stiles didn't have time for their awkward chit chat. "We have a situation. " He motioned to the seat next to Scott for Allison to sit. Then he leaned forward. "There's a new girl at school, Jamie Silver. Are you related to her and is she a werewolf hunter?"

Allison frowned. "I've never heard of us being related to any Silvers. And my grandfather gave me a thorough history of our family. I mean, really thorough. I mean, falling asleep thorough. Besides, it's a common name. There's a Silver on 90210."

"Yeah, but isn't that her first name?" Scott interrupted.

"No, she goes by her last name. Remember? She's the half-sister of David Silver from the first Beverly Hills 90210."

Scott grinned. "Oh yeah! I'd forgotten that. And he made a guest appearance in season 1-"

"—but not at the same time as his wife Donna."

Stiles slapped a hand to his face. "Remind me again why you two peas in a pod aren't together anymore?"

Allison and Scott turned to him, mouths agape. "Um," "We, uh."

Stiles held a hand out to stop the awkward fumbling for words. "That was rhetorical. I just wanted it noted for public record."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "If you're still not convinced, there's a way to know for sure."

"Great!"

It was Scott's turn to scan the crowd. He raised one hand in a wave. "Jamie! Jamie Silver, over here."

Stiles spun around to see Jamie waving from the cafeteria lineup. He leaned towards Scott. "So the plan is if she puts wolf bane in your lunch, you know she's a hunter? Don't expect me to suck out the poison when she does."

"Trust me," Scott said. "I can smell death."

"I never said she's dead. She's not a vampire." Stiles paused. "Please tell me vampires still don't exist."

Allison only shrugged.

"No, I can smell if a person ever killed anyone."

"Like blood splatter? As far as I can tell, she's into regular hygiene that would eventually wash that away."

Scott squinted in thought. "It's hard to explain. It's more like killing someone changes you, like, chemically. So if she's a werewolf hunter..." He lifted his head to smile. "Hi, Jamie. Stiles has been telling us all about you."


	4. Chapter 4 - How's the Meatloaf?

**Chapter 4 - How's the Meatloaf?**

Jamie wasn't sure what made her go over to the table. Maybe because sitting alone at a new school sucked. But she regretted it before she even got there. Stiles was whispering to the dark-haired kid from her math class, giving furtive glances at her over his shoulder. He didn't want her there. But she went anyway, because…because, she didn't know why. For all she knew they were going to haze the new girl.

As she got closer, she noticed the girl at the table with them and sucked in a breath. In math class, the teacher had called her for a question. Her name was Allison. But was it Allison Argent? OK, now she did have a reason to go over there.

Stiles rolled his eyes as Jamie approached the table. "Jamie, this is Scott and Allison. Scott and Allison, Jamie. Do you…do you want to sit down? Unless you have someplace else to go."

"I'm the new kid. Where else would I have to go?" She winced at her own honesty. As if Stiles needed any more reminders that she was a loser.

Allison smiled at her. "I was the new kid last year. It's hard moving in high school, isn't it?

Jamie sat down in the only empty seat – next to Stiles. _She moved here last year. This must be Allison Argent. She doesn't look like a hardened killer. Maybe her family hasn't told her yet._ "Yeah, in high school everybody has their groups of friends already established. It's hard to break in."

"But you can also make a fresh start at a new school. I've made some good friends here." Allison gave a shy glance at Scott.

Easy for her to say. Allison was tall and gorgeous, with her slim jeans, tall boots, and a black leather jacket that, unlike hers, was form fitting. The in-crowd would have flocked to her the day she arrived. And Allison and Scott were…what? Dating?

Allison continued. "So where are you from?"

"Vancouver, Canada."

"That's…exotic," Scott said. "I've never been to Canada."

Jamie shrugged. "It's pretty much the same as here but with more hockey and less football. Probably the same amount of lacrosse."

"Ah yes, Canada. Home of the Vancouver Canucks and…Wolverine." Stiles gave a pointed glance at Scott. "Ever meet Wolverine up in Canada?"

Was he mocking her? "Well, considering he's fictional, no, I haven't. But if someone wants to introduce me to Hugh Jackman, I'd totally go for it."

Allison sighed. "Totally!"

Jamie wondered how Scott felt about that comment. But he didn't seem to have heard as he was…sniffing the air. Oh God! Did she remember to put on deodorant this morning? She squeezed her arms closer to her sides. Her clothes may be old but she knew they were clean.

But then Scott smiled, an open smile without any hint of mockery or condescension. She must have remembered the deodorant after all.

"Lunch smells _good_ today!" he said. "I've smelled bad lunch before, but today, it's aaaallll good. You get what I mean, Stiles?"

Stiles rubbed his forehead like he had a headache coming on. "Yeah, I get what you mean. You don't think the meatloaf will kill us."

"Yeah, you should try the meatloaf since the last thing you wanted from the cafeteria didn't work out so well for you."

Jamie glanced around the table. Scott was grinning, Allison was trying not to laugh, Stiles practically had his face in his plate and they were all eating meatloaf because that's what was on the menu today. Why did she get the feeling they weren't really talking about meatloaf?

She was still trying to puzzle it out when she heard a voice behind her. "So who the Hell are you?"

Jamie turned to see the redhead from this morning standing behind Stiles.

Stiles spun in his seat. "Um, Lydia, this is Jamie, from Canada. Jamie, this is Lydia from…um …Beacon Hills?"

"And why are you here, Jamie from Canada?"

Blunt, wasn't she? "My Mom moved here for work."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "No, I mean why are you sitting at this table?"

Jamie's mouth popped open. She was usually good at the sarcastic retorts but this time around her mind was blank except for the strong urge to bitch slap the redhead.

Stiles jumped in. "I'm the Welcome Wagon. I'm showing Jamie around today."

Lydia gave him a tight smile. "How…charitable of you." Then she focused on Scott. "I came over to do you a favour. Now that Jackson has had the same extra _conditioning_ as you, he might not need a need a co-captain. You should hit the gym if you expect to keep your position." Then she reached out to almost touch Stiles' shoulder before pulling back. "You too, Stiles, I don't want to see you get hurt."

Stiles' eyes hardened. "Too late. You just worry about your boyfriend. Scott and I will be fine."

Lydia stiffened. "Fine. Allison, I'll see you after school."

Allison looked confused. "Er, did we have plans?"

Lydia flashed a bright smile. "Of course we have plans after school. That's what best friends do. We'll go to lacrosse practice." Then she spun on her heels and left.

_That_ was Allison's best friend? She practically peed on Allison to mark her territory. Although why the heck Lydia would feel threatened by _her_, she had no idea. Maybe she got the names wrong. Because that Lydia seemed more like a hunter than Allison. That girl could take out a werewolf with her well-manicured nails alone. And what was that about the 'extra conditioning' her boyfriend was getting? If that was code for sex, _ew_, TMI. And if Lydia and Stiles used to have something going, totally tacky to mention it in front of him.

She glanced over at Stiles who was watching Lydia leave. His eyes held a sadness Jamie didn't normally associate with the too-cool-to-care jocks at her last school. A sadness that made her want to go all ninja on Lydia. That, or wrap her arms around Stiles and take away the hurt.

Jamie's eyes quickly dropped to her plate and she shoved a bite of meatloaf in. She needed to focus. This was _not_ why she came to Beacon Hills. And Scott had terrible taste in food because this meatloaf was disgusting. She tried to swallow but the dry meat caught in her throat and she started coughing.

Stiles pounded on her back with one hand while handing her his chocolate milk with the other hand. She managed to stop coughing long enough to take a sip of milk and choke the mess down. "Thanks," she croaked out. She was embarrassed. But strangely enough, her body hadn't gone into its normal fight or flight response to school humiliation. She felt herself relax. Maybe because no one was laughing at her here. Maybe because…Stiles was now rubbing her back.

Their eyes met and Stiles snatched his hand back. "Um, glad you're OK."

Across the table, Allison's eyes moved between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match. She gave this Mona Lisa smile, like she was wise to the world in ways the rest of them could only dream of. OK, maybe she looked like a hunter after all.

Jamie could still feel a tingle on her back where Stiles had been touching her. She jumped up from her seat. "I should go. I have a lot of catching up to do. Six chapters of _The Crucible_."

Allison continued smiling. "You should join Lydia and I after school. We'll watch the boys play."

She hesitated, but then smiled at Allison. "Sure, sounds like fun." As much as Jamie didn't want to spend time with Lydia, she couldn't miss this opportunity. Because if there was one thing she knew about male pride and teen werewolves, it's that they _always_ joined the sports teams.


	5. Chapter 5 - Biology 101

**Chapter 5 – Biology 101**

Stiles walked into biology class and took his usual seat next to Scott.

Scott frowned. "Where's Jamie?"

Stiles shrugged. "I looked for her at the end of lunch but I didn't find her. I'm going to get fired as the Welcome Wagon."

They both looked up at the next person in the door. Allison. Scott gave a little wave as she found her seat two rows up. Allison smiled back. Those two were hopeless.

Next in the door were Lydia and Jackson. They ignored Stiles as they walked past.

"What? No 'thank you' for everything I did for you, Jackson?" Stiles asked loudly. "If not a fruit basket, at least a card. Do they make a Hallmark card for what we shared?"

Jackson lunged for Stiles as Scott leapt up from his seat to hold him back. Amber and blue eyes glared at each other as Stiles and Lydia pulled them apart.

"Down, boys!" Stiles hissed, regretting not keeping his big mouth shut. "And watch the eyes."

"Please, Jackson," Lydia pleaded. "Don't make a scene."

The door slammed and everyone leapt apart. Mr. Harris stared at them with arms crossed. He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly, the door flew open and Jamie rushed in.

Scott grabbed his books off the desk. "Oh look, Allison is by herself now that Lydia is sitting with Jackson. I'd better keep her company." He waved at Jamie and pointed at the chair he was abandoning.

"Scott!" Stiles hissed. He could see what his so-called friend was doing and it was a bad idea. Just seconds ago he'd picked a fight with a brand new werewolf because the guy was dating Lydia. He was _so_ not in the right frame of mind for a very unsubtle Scott to be trying to set him up.

Scott sat next to Allison and they huddled together, obviously plotting and scheming. This was bad.

Jamie hesitated at the front of the class. Stiles pasted on a smile and waved her over. It wasn't her fault his friends were crazy.

Jamie squeezed past him and into Scott's seat. Well, guess it was her seat now.

"Metamorphosis." Mr. Harris started, "is the change in a creature from one form to a completely different form. Most commonly associated with the insect family, and best observed in the almost supernatural transformation from lowly caterpillar into fantastical butterfly."

_Or teenager into werewolf._

"Unfortunately, since science is not considered anywhere near as important as lacrosse at this school," At that point he glared at Stiles. _What the Hell? He was third string. Glare at Jackson, or even Scott._ "I didn't have the budget to purchase butterfly larvae or chrysalides. So it will be your responsibility to find and catalogue caterpillars, cocoons and chrysalides and bring them in for us to observe. And because the school board considers it some sort of liability to send you out in the woods alone, you'll be working in pairs. So you'd better hope your seat mate is a good student." He looked at the paper in his hand. "Jamison Silver, you may regret your choice of seats."

Mr. Harris turned off the lights and turned on the slide projector. "And now let us take a look at common butterflies and moths of the south-east in their various stages and how to identify them. Because anyone who brings in a cocoon that turns into a nest of baby spiders," He gave an involuntary shiver. "gets an automatic F on this project."

_Baby spiders, hmmm_.

Jamie leaned closer. "Wow, Mr. Harris really hates you. You must be a major SD."

Stiles puzzled on that for a few seconds. "I. Don't. Know."

"Oops! Forgot that's a Canadian expression. Which is a great loss for you Americans because it's a fantastic expression. It's short for shit disturber: someone who stirs up trouble for fun."

"I don't..." but Stiles thought of what he just pulled on Jackson. Maybe he _was_ an SD.

"One simple question: how seriously were you thinking of bringing in baby spiders for this project?"

Stiles laughed, then slapped his hand over his mouth and ducked down behind the guy in front of him.

"Silence!" called the teacher.

Jamie snickered. "See. You're an SD."

"Although I _may_ have given a brief thought to bringing in a few of the suspicious cocoons from the dark corners of my basement, I wouldn't have done it," he whispered.

"Why not?"

"It's your grade too," he responded.

She smiled. "So you're a noble SD?"

"Hey! If I don't do it, it doesn't count."

"Sorry, SD is a state of mind. If you think SD thoughts, you're an SD."

"That hardly seems fair," he grumbled. _Wait_. "You mentioned the spiders first. _You_ thought of them, too." Stiles poked her in the arm. "You're an SD.!"

Jamie looked like the kid who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Takes one to know one."


	6. Chapter 6 - Boys and Their Games

**_Previously:_**

_Allison continued smiling. "You should join Lydia and I after school. We'll watch the boys play."_

_She hesitated, but then smiled at Allison. "Sure, sounds like fun." As much as Jamie didn't want to spend time with Lydia, she couldn't miss this opportunity. Because if there was one thing she knew about male pride and teen werewolves, it's that they always joined the sports teams._

Jamie scanned the bleachers. It didn't take her long to spot Allison waving wildly. She stepped up the bleachers to where Allison and Lydia were huddled. Lydia's whole face tightened when she saw Jamie. Whatever. She wasn't here to make friends, although human kindness went a long way in helping her get though the day. She sat next to Allison and looked over the field. Helmets? She didn't know they wore helmets for lacrosse. She thought it was field hockey for boys.

"How do we know who's who? For all I know Jackson is at McDonalds eating a Big Mac right now rather than co-captaining the team." _Yeah, she was definitely an SD._

Lydia practically rose out of her seat. "It's obvious who Jackson is! He's the one running fastest, throwing furthest, hitting hardest. Number 37."

Jamie focused on 37. He had the ball and was running down the field, dodging other players with ease. He _was_ fast. Maybe too fast. _Hmm._

Allison tugged on her sleeve. "And Scott is 11, Stiles is 24. The goalie is Jackson's friend Danny – number 6. Our friend Isaac is 14.

Jamie looked from player to player as Allison called out the names. They all seemed pretty fast. But it was Jackson that stood out as the fastest, and right now, he was barrelling right for Stiles. _Oh God, if what she suspected was true…_

Stiles started running right at Jackson, while Jackson bent at the shoulder, like a charging bull.

Jamie felt herself rising out of her seat. _Please let her be wrong._

As the two were about to collide mid-field, Stiles spun out the way and Jackson charged past with his momentum. Stiles turned, tapping Jackson's stick with his own. The ball flew up from Jackson's net and Stiles swiped it from the air with his own stick.

Stiles faced the bench, raising both arms in triumph over his stronger but stupider opponent.

The guys who weren't on the field hooted in appreciation. "Way to work your strong points, Stilinski!" the coach shouted.

Jamie joined Allison in clapping from the bleachers. It was possible she'd been wrong in her judgement of a certain "dumb jock." He was maybe not so dumb after all.

Stiles glanced up at the stands with a grin. Looking for Lydia's reaction, Jamie guessed. But suddenly he was flying through the air like a rag doll, before collapsing in a pile 10 feet from where Jackson now stood in his place, a seething mass of anger.

Jamie gasped and leapt to her feet. She ran down the bleachers three at a time. Other spectators looked at her strangely. But she'd seen injuries caused by hits like that. She knew the damage they could do. She could help. That was the only reason she was running.

She pushed through the crowd of players. Scott had his helmet off and knelt next to Stiles, who was writhing in pain, clutching his right shoulder that drooped lower than his left. Jamie felt ill. Dislocated shoulders were the worst and she hated what she was about to do to Stiles. She knelt down next to his bad shoulder and looked across at Scott. "Can you help him sit up?"

"Hey! Hey, you, Miss Silver!" the coach shouted. "What are you doing on my field, and what are you doing to my player?"

She glanced up momentarily. "I have first aid training. Stiles has a dislocated shoulder and the sooner I pop it back in, the less damage there will be to his nerves and ligaments."

"Oh, in that case, carry on then." Finstock then switched to a shout. "OK, people, give the medic some space!"

Stiles groaned as Scott gently pushed him into a sitting position. "I've seen this on TV. It's going to hurt like a bitch, isn't it?" He caught her eye, daring her to try to lie to him.

Jamie swallowed nervously. "Let's just say if this was the Old West I'd give you a shot of whiskey and have you bite a bullet."

Scott grabbed Stiles' good hand. "You'll be fine. Feel free to squeeze as hard as you want. Consider me your bullet."

Stiles closed his eyes. "If I wasn't in so much pain, I'd point out how gay that sounds."

Jamie smiled. Even in massive pain, Stiles was still cracking jokes. Jamie got her two hands in position on his arm and shoulder and gave a grim nod to Scott. "This is going to be quick, Stiles. I'm going to count to three and then I'll-"_ Twist. Shove. Pop. _

Stiles screamed and then it was over. "You were supposed to go at two! On TV they always pop the shoulder at two!"

Jamie held Stiles' arm against his side as Finstock arrived with a massive first aid kit. Jamie found a large roll of tensor bandage and wrapped it around his arm and chest. "Darn TV gives away all our secrets. So we have to switch it up."

Stiles stared at her expertly wrapping the tensor in a complicated pattern that held his arm back. "What other secrets do you have?"

Jamie flushed. _Too many secrets to count. _But she was interrupted from having to answer by another scream from the other end of the field. What kind of game _was_ lacrosse?

"Silver!" Finstock shouted. "Get down there."

Jamie clipped the end of the tensor and gave Stiles' good hand a squeeze.

He smiled his thanks at her. "Go save someone else, now."

To Scott she said "Don't let him move." Then she jumped up and ran down the field to where a new crowd was forming. They parted for her and in the middle of the circle, lay Jackson Whitmore. Her eyes went to the blood soaked leg, and the bone that was sticking out. Jamie felt the cafeteria meatloaf coming back up. She swallowed hard. _Just a training exercise, just a training exercise_, she chanted to herself. She could do this.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and handed it to a player who didn't look like he was in shock. "Call an ambulance. Say we've got a compound fracture of the…" She took another look at Jackson's leg, "of the fibula here."

Another boy held Jackson's leg immobile. _Smart_. And difficult considering how much Jackson was thrashing around. Number 14. That was Isaac, right? He started talking. "Jackson was feeling so bad about what happened to Stiles that I asked him to toss the ball around to keep his mind off it. I threw wide. Jackson leapt for it, and landing badly."

"Well good job keeping his leg immobile. It's the best thing we can do until the ambulance gets here." She joined Isaac in trying to hold Jackson's leg still. "I need a two lacrosse sticks and some tape," she called.

But Jackson wasn't helping. He arched up, trying to throw Isaac off but Isaac kept him pinned in place. Worst patient ever. Jamie started to move towards Jackson's head to try to calm him but suddenly Scott was there, blocking her view, and helping Isaac keep Jackson in place.

"Scott, you were supposed to stay with Stiles!"

"Just deal with his leg," Scott grunted as he pinned Jackson's chest to the ground.

Two lacrosse sticks appeared as well as Coach Finstock, lugging the first aid kit. He froze as he got a first look at his star lacrosse player's leg. "Aw, Hell!"

Jamie put a lacrosse stick on either side of Jackson's leg and started taping the impromptu splint together.

"Don't just splint it!" Finstock barked. "Pop it back in like you did for Stilinski. Fix it!"

Jamie kept working. "That was a dislocated shoulder. This is a compound fracture. You don't 'pop it back in' without surgery and it doesn't get 'fixed' without weeks in a cast.

"NOOO!" Finstock and Jackson shouted in unison. Jackson renewed his efforts to throw Scott and Isaac off of him.

_Oops._ She may have the first aid training but she needed to work on her bedside manner. Because letting Jackson Whitmore know he wasn't going to be returning to lacrosse any time soon was not what he needed to hear at that moment.

Scott got right in Jackson's face and spoke quietly to him. "Jackson, you have a bone sticking out of your leg. Everyone has seen the bone sticking out of your leg. There is no miracle cure for this."

Jackson stilled at the words. "I hate you all."

"Yeah, well, you chose to be a part of this…team. Now your job as a team player is to lay here quietly until the ambulance gets here and then do everything your doctor tells you to do until you get the OK to come back to lacrosse." Wow, Scott had way better bedside manner than she did. No wonder he was co-captain of the team.

Jamie found some sterile pads in the first aid kit and applied them to the open wound, being careful to stay away from the bone itself. _Just a training exercise, just a training exercise._ Who could have predicted that the first big use of her medical training would be for injuries not related to the supernatural? Because no matter how fast Jackson was, the fact that he hadn't healed from his injury meant he wasn't a werewolf.

**I hope it's clear what went on here. If not, there's some exposition in the next chapter when Scott explains to Stiles what the heck happened down field.**


	7. Chapter 7 - Drive My Car

**Chapter 7 – Drive My Car**

Scott helped Stiles over to the bench. Somebody else was hurt. "Maybe we should take up a less dangerous sport, like alligator wrestling," Stiles joked, but he could tell Scott was paying more attention to what was happening down field than listening to him.

Scott's eyes flashed gold for a moment. "I gotta get down there." and then he was gone.

"Don't worry about me," he called, to no one in particular. Lydia ran past crying, with Allison close behind. His stomach knotted. Of course, no one would be crying for him. It must be Jackson, although how a werewolf managed to get hurt, he didn't know.

Protecting his sore shoulder, he gingerly lay down on the bench and closed his eyes. He heard people calling, Jackson shouting. An ambulance came and went. It got suddenly quiet. Had everyone just left him here? He blinked his eyes open. Owl-like eyes peered down at him from inches above his face.

"Ahhhh!" He flailed and teetered on the narrow bench, trying to reach out to brace himself before remembering his arm was taped to his side.

Two hands slammed into his chest, holding him in place. Jamie smiled at him. "That's the second time today I've saved your butt.

Stiles was embarrassed by his reaction, but how could he explain that in Beacon Hills, it made sense to assume a face staring down at you was there to hurt, rather than help? "I wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't startled me," he grumbled. "Why were you invading my personal space, anyway?"

Blushing, Jamie stood upright and shoved her hands in the pockets of her oversized jacket. Stiles' chest felt cool where her hands had rested, and he immediately regretted his words. "You just had an injury that had you crashing into the ground," she said crisply. "I saw you lying on the bench with your eyes closed and I thought I'd missed a concussion. The options seemed to be unconscious or dead so I was checking your breathing. _Wow, and he thought he assumed the worst._

"Stilinski!" Coach barked, hiking back down the field towards them. "Is Silver driving you to the hospital or do I have to get Greenberg to do it?"

Greenberg? That guy gave him the creeps. "Jamie, I will pay you money to drive me. Just don't leave me alone with Greenberg."

Jamie looked at him suspiciously. "If I double you on my bike you'll end up with two dislocated shoulders."

"No problem. You can drive my jeep."

A few minutes later they had Jamie's bike and Stiles' lacrosse bag loaded in the jeep. Stiles eased himself into the passenger seat while Jamie got in the driver's side. Scott was the only other person who'd driven his jeep and now this girl who he'd known for less than a day was driving him to the hospital. It was weird. And what was most weird about it is it didn't seem weird at all. He looked over at Jamie. Why wasn't she started the engine?

Jamie looked at him with wide eyes. "It's stick shift. I don't drive standard."

"It's not that hard. I can teach you."

Jamie shook her head vigorously. "You don't understand, my brother tried to teach me. I have some sort of stick shift dyslexia. Picture me bunny hopping to a stall at an intersection in downtown Vancouver with six lanes of traffic honking at me and not being able to start the car again."

"So you panicked in a high pressure situation. Big deal. But you must have been doing OK before that."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because you made it all the way downtown from wherever you started your practice."

"I made it 50 feet down the road from where we switched drivers."

Stiles felt a surge of anger towards Jamie's brother. "My dad wouldn't let me leave the parking lot I started in until I went half an hour without stalling. Your brother started you in the middle of a huge city?"

"My brother is a sink or swim kind of guy."

"Well I'm a water wings until you can swim kind of guy. So press the clutch, start the engine and get used to the look of this parking lot because we're going to be here a while."

Jamie's panicked look turned to concern. "Stiles, you need to be getting to the hospital, not teaching me how to drive standard. And the bunny hopping won't be good for your shoulder."

"It's still better than Greenburg," he muttered. Then he brightened. "Look, I'll even shift gears for you. All you have to worry about is the clutch." He put his hand on the gear shift, only to find Jamie's hand already there. Normally he would have pulled away awkwardly, but her death grip on the gear shift and her pale face caused his protective gene to overpower his awkward gene. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Jamie's hand. "I'll tell you the secret to driving standard."

"What?" she squeaked.

"Breathe. At least several times a minute."

Jamie sped up and switched into third gear – difficult to do in a parking lot that size. But a few seconds later she had to downshift as she ran out of parking lot.

"I think you're ready for the big time now." Stiles said.

Jamie pulled up to the exit of the parking lot and braked. She looked at Stiles with a wide-eyed wonder. "You taught me in 15 minutes what my brother couldn't teach me in 15 hours."

"It's amazing what a lack of pressure can do." Then he added, "But the practice with your brother probably taught you most of what you needed to know – as much as I hate to admit it."

Jamie grinned. "Why do you hate to admit it? You want all the credit for your genius teaching techniques?"

"No, I hate that your brother had you totally stressed out for 15 hours when it didn't need to be like that."

Jamie stared out the front window. "Oh." Then she cleared her throat, shifted to first and pulled onto the empty road towards the hospital. Apparently criticizing her brother was off limits.

* * *

Two hours later, in the hospital parking lot, Stiles' Dad was helping ease Stiles back into the passenger seat of his jeep. Then he leaned across to address Scott, who was in the driver's seat. "Drive slow. No sudden stops or starts. No sharp corners. Get him home in one piece."

Scott nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir."

Stiles rolled his eyes at his Dad. "Stop worrying. The doctor said Jamie did a great job fixing the dislocation. And with the drugs I'm on now, I'm faaaantastic!"

His Dad's brow creased. Maybe drug jokes weren't the best thing to say to a former sheriff...or a Dad. "I'll be home in an hour. Scott, don't leave my son alone."

"No, sir. He'll be fine, sir."

His Dad frowned again, but shut the door and stepped away from the jeep.

Scott backed out of the parking spot and started navigating out the lot.

Stiles waited patiently for three seconds. Part of him wished it was Jamie driving him home, so he could try to make up for criticizing her brother. She'd left as soon as his Dad showed up, saying that she wanted to get home before dark. That made sense in this town, and besides, he had a lot of questions for Scott.

"OK, what the Hell happened? Why is human boy going home tonight while wolf boy is still at the hospital in surgery?"

Scott puttered along slowly, taking very seriously his vow of no sudden movements. "Too many witnesses saw a bone sticking out of Jackson's leg. He couldn't heal himself without giving away our secret. And as long as the two ends of the bone weren't touching, there was no way for the healing process to start."

"So he was willing to take the injury and sacrifice the rest of lacrosse season for the good of the pack? That doesn't sound like Jackson."

Scott's jaw clenched and unclenched. "It's not. He had a little help making the decision."

Stiles wasn't sure he wanted to know the details, but he had to ask anyway. "Who's help?"

"Isaac. He held Jackson's leg immobile until I could get there and talk some sense into him."

Stiles still couldn't picture it in his head. "And how did Isaac get there fast enough to stop Jackson before he reconnected the bone?"

"Who do you think hit him in the leg with a lacrosse stick?"

Stiles felt all the air go out of his lungs. "Jesus. He did that in retaliation for me? Should I buy Isaac flowers?"

Scott glanced over with a tight smile. "Don't flatter yourself. Lydia says that its projection, something about how you represent Isaac and Jackson represents the Dad he was never able to fight back against. At least, that's what she explained to Jackson so he doesn't kill Isaac when he gets out of the hospital.

Stiles leaned his head back against the seat. "Remind me not to get on Isaac's bad side."


	8. Chapter 8 - More Biology (or Chemistry)

**Chapter 8 – Biology (or Chemistry)**

Jamie gripped the dagger, held tight to her target and focused. Five quick jabs and the mission was accomplished.

At that moment her mom, Olivia, walked into the kitchen. "What did that yogurt container ever do to you?"

Jamie moved to the next empty container and stabbed five more air holes. "School project. We're collecting caterpillars for biology."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "We?" She always had hopes that Jamie would make friends at the next school. Maybe she'd suffered too many blows to the head and didn't remember how hard it was to juggle friends and secrets. And that the only true friend she'd ever had had known her secrets, just as she'd known his.

"No biggie, we were assigned partners in class." She downplayed it but it did feel different here. It had been five days since Jamie started at Beacon Hills High. Five days since the infamous lacrosse practice. Five days of people staring at her - the idiot savant of medical knowledge. Five days of being "volunteer" team medic. And yes, those were air quotes because she wasn't given much choice by Coach Finstock. Five days of having her freak status mitigated by having a table to sit at for lunch and an official (if odd) position on the school's hottest team. Thank God for Stiles, Scott and Allison. And thank God it was Saturday because she was exhausted from all the attention.

She stuffed the yogurt containers, a bottle of water, a few granola bars and her trusty dagger in her backpack and headed out the front door. She could be a freakin' girl scout.

Jamie pulled her bike out of the old barn on the property. One of these days she was going to explore it. She'd been so busy with catch up at school, lacrosse practices, and sessions with her mom that there hadn't been any time.

Olivia stepped out on the front porch as Jamie pedalled past. "Be careful today. We still don't know who lives around here."

Jamie waved and headed off. She'd arranged to meet Stiles at the library. There was no way she was going to let him pick her up at her house. It was bad enough being the new kid. Being the *poor* new kid had been enough to make her a target at her last school and unfortunately, her mom's line of work didn't pay very well. Mean girls were like a pack of wolves, circling the herd, looking for the weakest member, separating them from the rest of the herd and then ripping them to shreds while the rest of the herd looked on, relieved they got to live another day.

Not to mention, there was the small detail of the tactical room in the basement.

* * *

Jamie looked at her watch as she approached the library. She'd made a wrong turn and was later than she wanted to be. She hoped Stiles wasn't the early type. She scanned the parking lot for his jeep. Safe. She found the bike rack, quickly locked her bike and ran into the library. A few minutes later she emerged after a splash of cold water and a less than graceful blow dry of her damp hair while contorting herself under the hand dryer.

Stiles was just getting out of his jeep. Jamie felt her stomach tighten at the sight of him. Odd. It must be from the close call of arriving late.

"Library on a Saturday, Silver? You better watch yourself or you're going to get a reputation as a dork."

Oh great, that wasn't usually the reputation she had to worry about. "It's just that I'm super far behind with the change of schools." Jamie felt herself getting defensive.

But Stiles just smiled. "Hey, no need to make excuses on my account. I know that deep down you're an SD."

Jamie laughed. "Alright, fellow SD, let's go hunt some caterpillars."

Stiles motioned to the bike rack. "Throw your bike in the back so I can give you a ride home afterwards."

Jamie froze. She hadn't thought that far in advance. "Um, I'm coming back to the library after we're finished. More work to do."

"Dorky SD," Stiles muttered.

"Shut up!" Jamie gave him a light punch in the shoulder.

Stiles bent over double. "Ow! My bad shoulder!"

A wave of guilt swept over her "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She touched his shoulder lightly. "I can't believe I forgot. Are you alright?"

Stiles lifted his head to reveal a sly grin.

Wait. Jamie looked at Stiles' shoulder. The one that he _didn't _hurt earlier that week. "Gah! Now I _want_ to punch your bad shoulder!"

"It wouldn't matter. " He flapped his arms. "I'm all better now, thanks to Dr. Doogette Howser." She stepped towards him menacingly and he ducked away and opened the passenger door for her. "After you, my dorky violent SD."

"You're on fire today with the insults," Jamie grumbled as she slid into the jeep. But inside she had a little burst of happiness. It had been a long time since she'd been close enough to someone to tease each other. "Just shut up and get in so I can tell you where to go." She smiled sweetly.

Stiles laughed. "Yeah, I bet you want to tell me where to go." But he hopped into the jeep. "Remind me again why the girl who's been in town a week is giving directions to the guy who's lived here all his life."

"You're so right! We'll go to _your_ favorite butterfly collecting spot instead." She relaxed back into her seat as if she were only here for the ride. "Lead on."

Stiles sighed. "OK, fine. Where do we need to go?"

Jamie grinned and pulled out her iPhone. Luckily, the phone was considered a tool of the business and totally justified. "I found the perfect place on satellite."

The spot Jamie directed them to took them past the lane of their rented house. It would have been faster for her to meet at the meadow instead of the library, but then he might have offered to drive her home afterwards. Thus the fake library studying. She leaned back on the headrest of the jeep. Subterfuge was exhausting.

A few turns later they were bumping along an old dirt road that was used so rarely it had grass growing down the middle of it. Jamie checked the little blue dot flashing on the map on her phone.

"Where the heck are you taking us?" Stiles said as they hit a particularly large bump. "If I hear Dueling Banjos I'm leaving you to fend for yourself, cuz it's my purty mouth they want."

"Noted." Jamie didn't take her eyes off her phone. "OK, you can find a place to pull over anywhere here."

"Good thing I have a jeep," Stiles grumbled as he nosed the vehicle over some rocks at the side of the road.

"Think of it this way: most people can't justify owning an SUV for their urban warrior driving. But you're totally justified in not owning a Smart Car."

Branches scraped along the roof like nails on a chalkboard. "My guilty conscience thanks you. My paint job does not."

Jamie hopped down from the jeep, swung her backpack over her shoulder, and breathed in the pine scented air. Sometimes she thought she could just give up people and live like a hermit in the woods. But that wasn't her role in life - she glanced back at the boy fighting to escape the raspberry canes that had hooked themselves to his clothes - and there were a few people she might miss. She grinned as she skipped from a fallen log to a large stone to a mossy bump, avoiding the muddy sections that had formed from a previous day's rain.

She heard swearing behind her. "What are you, part deer?"

Jamie slowed down. "As a kid, I spent most of time in the woods with my best friend, Ryan. I had to be fast to keep up with him." No need to mention the real reason Ryan was so fast. She smiled at a memory of running through sun dappled woods, hollering at the boy in front of her not to cheat. And how he "accidentally" tripped over a root, allowing her to win the impromptu race.

"So your best friend is a guy?" Stiles' voice was strained. Must be the exertion.

Was her friendship with Ryan still present tense? Jamie hoped _her_ voice didn't sound strained as she responded while choking back a different memory; the one where she hadn't seen Ryan in two years. "You're not one of those people who thinks guys and girls can't be friends, are you?" she snapped as her walk sped up again. "Because I'll have to stop talking to you."

Stiles scrambled to catch up, cautious at her sudden mood change. "No...I just...It explains why you never seem fazed by any of the crap Scott and I pull at lunch."

Jamie took a few long breaths, trying to push down the bad memories. The underbrush thinned as they went deeper into the woods. Stiles was easily keeping up now but she wasn't ready to look at him. None of this was his fault. She'd always blamed her troubles at other schools on the local mean girls, but if she was honest, her short temper didn't help in the friendship department. She needed to try harder.

She flashed him a tight smile. "Ryan has pulled _way_ stupider and grosser stuff than you and Scott put together."

Jamie could see Stiles relax at her banter and felt guilty for putting the tension there in the first place.

"You realize you just challenged me to be as stupid and gross as possible at lunchtime on Monday." Stiles went silent, his eyes looking up and to the right. A sure sign of creative thought.

"Stop thinking!" Jamie laughed. "Whatever you're plotting, Allison and I don't want to see it while we're trying to eat."

"It's too late. Never let it be said that Stiles Stilinski was one to back down from a challenge." He paused. "Well, a be-as-gross-as-possible challenge anyway."

Jamie groaned. She'd have to apologize to Allison in advance on Monday.

The trees were getting smaller and closer together. She pushed aside low hanging branches. She could hear Stiles muttering behind her. The light was brighter in front of her. "We're almost there."

"Couldn't we have taken an easier route to wherever there is?"

"Nope." She pushed through the last of the brambles, and into the open meadow. The scent of milkweed hung in the air, as heavy as the drooping pink heads of flowers on the plants. Purple aster blanketed the space between the taller milkweed. Butterflies flitted between the flowers. Orange, yellow, black, white. A tiny blue one followed a drunken path past Stiles face as his eyes flicked up and down, back and forth trying to watch it.

"Wow," Stiles said as he stepped into the meadow. "I always thought the meadow in the Twilight movies was BS. Now I know places like it really do exist."

Jamie grinned. "You've seen the Twilight movies?"

"Hey, it was just research."

She looked at him sharply. Research? He was researching vampires and werewolves? Jamie was having fun playing ordinary high school student, but she couldn't forget why she was really here. And she couldn't forget that Stiles was friends with an Argent. "What were you researching?"

Stiles' eyes went wide. "I saw the meadow in the commercials. I thought it looked cheesy. I never saw the movies. I'm more an Avengers kind of guy."

She stepped closer to him. "Don't change the subject. You saw the movies. What type of research were you doing?"

He leaned over to pluck an aster flower, then spun the stem between his two hands, keeping his eyes on the spinning flower instead of her. He was hiding something. Stiles looked up suddenly. "Girls," he said.

Jamie shook her head, confused. "What?"

Stiles blushed. "I was researching girls. Trying to figure out how the skinny pasty angsty guy gets the girl. Because it doesn't work that way in real life." He turned away again, swatting at the flowers in front of him as he cut a swath through them, the back of his neck and tips of his ears as red as his face had been.

Was that how Stiles saw himself, as the skinny pasty angsty guy? And here she'd been seeing him as the cute funny jock. Strange how that worked. And oh man, had she just thought of him as cute? She wanted to reassure him somehow, but now she was blushing herself and couldn't think of a single thing to say that didn't sound like she had a crush on him. And she didn't have a crush on him. That would be way too complicated.

"I found one!" Stiles shouted. He held up a milkweed leaf in triumph, revealing a fat yellow, black and white striped caterpillar happily munching away on it.

"Awesome!" she chirped back. If he didn't want to talk about it anymore, that was alright with her."

In 30 minutes they collected nine caterpillars, four chrysalides and three fuzzy cocoons that might or might not have been spider nests. Jamie identified all but one of the cocoons using her phone. After a long heated debate as to whether to put that one in Harris's desk they agreed to leave it behind. Jamie might not have been comfortable boosting Stiles' self-esteem with compliments, but at least she could make sure he got a kick-ass mark on this project. And she could do this...

Jamie found a mature milkweed plant filled with pods that had already split open to reveal their fluffy innards and snapped it off at the ground. Then she stepped over to where Stiles was looking under leaves for more chrysalides. "Look what I found," she said.

He stood up to look and Jamie whacked him across the chest with the plant. White fluff flew into the air like a warm blizzard and coated his shirt and head. Stiles looked shocked, before the look was replaced with a devilish grin. "Oh, you did not just do that."

"Oh, yes I did," Jamie laughed but it turned to a shriek as Stiles lunged for her. She took off across the meadow, slashing the milkweed plant behind her to defend against him. She was fast but this wasn't the woods they were running in and Stiles was faster. Firm arms soon caught her around her waist and took her breath away. She scrambled to escape but Stiles lifted her off the ground, leaving her feet to flail uselessly. She knew six different ways to escape from a hold like this, but four of them involved serious injury to the other person and the other two grew fuzzy in her memory as she became aware of her back pressed against Stiles warm chest. And he considered himself the skinny pasty guy? Damn. He had that wrong. Her heart was beating wildly and she hoped Stiles couldn't feel it, as close as they were. She tried to push up out of his arms but only succeeded in wrapping her hands over his. And removing them now would seem to imply too much. Like she was aware of how his body felt against hers and this was more than just a juvenile wrestling match. Awkward.

"Any allergies?" Stiles voice was ragged. You'd think a guy on the lacrosse team would have better lung capacity.

"No, why?" Jamie was confused by the question but relieved at anything that got her mind off the direction it was heading.

Still carrying her, he took a large sideways step towards a patch of goldenrod.

"Don't you dare," she laughed, renewing her flailing with vigour.

Wrapping one arm tighter around her waist, he removed his other hand to snap off a large weedy flower head. "Oh, I dare." And with that he tapped her on the head and both shoulders, anointing her with the yellow pixie dust.

Already hopelessly covered in pollen, Jamie stopped flailing while he continued to dust her. Sensing this, Stiles loosened his grip and she slid down until her feet were once again earthbound. Taking one of her hands, Stiles turned her to face him, whispering, "Close your eyes." At that moment, with her heart beating so loudly that everything else faded away, she would have done anything this boy asked. Her eyelids fluttered closed. He brushed the goldenrod across one cheek and then the other. She knew he was leaving a trail of pollen there, but damned if she didn't care. Next, his thumb traced the same path across her cheekbone. Gasping, her blue eyes flew open to meet his golden ones. He was staring at her, into her, with a look that seemed able to tear down all her walls and lay bare all her secrets. And she had a lot of secrets to bare. It terrified her.

A shrill voice cut into their world of two. "Are you done covering Pocahontas in war paint?"

Jamie and Stiles leapt apart to face Lydia, hands on hips, and a pissed off Jackson, struggling to catch up to her on his crutches.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked gruffly. Meanwhile, Jamie scrubbed at the pollen on her cheeks, glad she didn't have to attempt to speak yet.

"We're here to work on the biology project. But you guys...milkweed and goldenrod. Really?" Lydia said in the most condescending tone possible. "I can tell you're going to get your usual mark, Stiles."

With a surge of anger Jamie found her voice. "We've already collected everything we need. I hope we left you a caterpillar or two."

Lydia's lips pinched tight until they were almost white. "I studied the ecosystem zoning of the Beacon Hills area, cross referencing to Google satellite for two days to find the perfect untouched meadow ecosystem. You'd better have left us some caterpillars." She glared at Jamie and a weaker person would have withered beneath it. "How the Hell did you even find this place?"

"Um, same way you did?" She wasn't about to explain to Lydia the years spent running around the woods with her best friend. And she couldn't explain to her _or_ Stiles about the military grade satellite imagery she had access to that was so detailed, she could count the butterflies.

Jackson took a clumsy step towards them, swinging his crutches. "We can always make them share," he growled.

Jamie blocked his path. "Just try it, Jackass."

Jackson stared her down, practically blowing smoke out his nostrils. In retrospect, she should have been scared, but she was too pissed off for fear. Besides, one good foot hook and she'd have those crutches out from under him. No guilt about his temporary disability. She'd been taught to use every advantage in a fight.

A warm hand squeezed hers and and Stiles stepped in front of her. What was he doing? She could handle this. But of course he couldn't know that. So it would be Stiles fighting Jackson. And the crutches that were her advantage could just as easily become weapons against Stiles. Now she felt fear, and like a bucket of ice water tossed over her, her anger cooled.

She grasped for something to diffuse the situation as the two boys went nose to nose while Lydia watched in morbid fascination. Lydia. "Is this how you want to get your grades, Lydia? Cheating? You must be so proud of yourself."

Lydia's eyes snapped to hers and narrowed.

"You want to be responsible for this?" Jamie asked, pointing at the explosive situation beside them, "Because I don't."

The red head's eyes went wide, as if it had just dawned on her that things were serious. Lydia grabbed Jackson's arm and tried to pull him away. "Come on, it's a big meadow. I'm sure there's lots of creepy crawlies left for us."

"She's right. We just covered the south side of the field. The rest is virgin caterpillar territory." Jamie grabbed Stiles' hand and interlaced her fingers with his. Pulling him away from Jackson she added, "The underside of milkweed leaves is where you'll find the monarch caterpillars. Have fun!"

Reluctantly, the two boys separated and Jamie dragged Stiles towards their stuff before one of them changed their minds.

Stiles stalked over to the backpack, swung it over his shoulder and stormed toward the woods. Jamie grabbed the yogurt containers and followed.

This time it was Jamie who was hurrying to keep up to Stiles longer strides. Despite her attempts to talk about what just happened, he wouldn't say a word on the way back to the jeep. Was he mad that Lydia was there with Jackson? He obviously still had feelings for her. Whatever game Stiles had been playing with Jamie, he couldn't get away from her fast enough when Lydia showed up. The longer Stiles wouldn't talk to her, the more she felt like he was mad at _her_. For what? Standing up for him and then diffusing the fight that was about to happen? Or just inconveniently being there when the bitch of his dreams showed up. Now it was her turn to get pissed.

They reached the jeep in silence, the only sound was the slamming of the doors as they got in.

Stiles gripped the steering wheel. "What the Hell were you thinking?"

**I have a confession: this chapter was just going to be filler. I set up a biology field trip in chapter 5 with the idea that I'd need a plot excuse for Stiles and Jamie to get to know each other outside of school. Then the driving lesson appeared to fulfill that role. I had no clue what to do with this chapter but chapter 5 was already published so I couldn't back out. I started writing with the idea that Lydia and Jackson would show up and seeing the interactions between Stiles and Lydia would make Jamie decide she had to be cautious in her feelings towards this guy who still had feelings for another girl. Not sure where anything else came from. I'm usually an outline girl but I there's nothing I love more than when stuff appears so randomly in my story I start to wonder whether I'm the one that wrote it at all. Milkweed and goldenrod? What the Hell? And double my usual chapter size.**


	9. Chapter 9 - Metamorphosis

**Chapter 9 – Metamorphosis**

**So I finally got a cover photo for this story. It's from Dylan's movie, The First Time. I'd been thinking, wasn't Dylan supposed to be in a movie at some point? So I looked and it had already been released on video. Squeee! Then I couldn't stop until I found it. (iTunes) The movie is like a John Hughes classic, but even better on the romance. Dylan is so...Dylan. :-) Britt is adorable and by happy coincidence she's pretty close to how I picture Jamie. So a cover photo and a great movie to help with everyone's Stiles withdrawal. Only a few days until Season 3!**

Stiles stormed back to the jeep. Jamie made a few comments but soon fell silent when he didn't respond. He wasn't about to say anything while they were still within range of werewolf super hearing. He was shaking from a mix of anger, fear and frustration. Jackson really looked like he would have attacked Jamie. Not the kanima, but Jackson. And as much as he would have done everything in his power to stop it, all that meant nothing against a werewolf. Stiles had never felt so helpless and for the first time felt a flash of regret that he hadn't taken Peter up on his offer.

He wrenched open the jeep door and slammed it behind him. "What the Hell were you thinking?" Stiles shouted at the girl beside him. "Provoking Jackson is liking poking a wounded bear with a stick, or stirring up a hornet's nest, or any other cliché that involves pissed off dangerous animals."

"I was thinking that Jackson was going to steal our work and I wasn't going to let him do it." Jamie jutted out her chin.

"He wouldn't have been thinking of stealing our bugs if you hadn't been taunting Lydia that there were none left for them."

"I couldn't help it. Lydia was being a bitch!" Jamie shouted.

Stiles ran a hand through his short hair. How could he explain? Jamie didn't know how dangerous Jackson was, or how messed up Lydia was from everything that had happened to her in the last year. Even Lydia's over-reaction to Jamie claiming they'd already found all the caterpillars was because she was stressed out over her perfect marks slipping after missing so much school. He couldn't fault her for that. "Let's just say that Lydia is...complicated. There are reasons why she is the way she is."

Jamie spoke more quietly. "I don't care what her 'reasons' are." She made her air quotes with an extra dose of sarcasm. "Everyone has crap in their lives but that doesn't give them the right to lash out at others unprovoked. Me, for example, I only lash out when the other guy starts it." She gave a smile that was anything but sweet. "Then I make sure I'm the one to finish it."

"So, you smoothing things over and getting us out of there with your helpful hints on where to find the monarch caterpillars..."

"Temporary," she spit out. "Lydia doesn't have the right to insult you. And Jackson is a big ass bully."

God! Jamie wasn't making this easy. She had no idea how much danger she was putting herself in. Why did she even care so much? He wouldn't have been able to save Jamie from Jackson at the meadow but he could try to keep her safe in the future. "You're right about one thing. Lydia was insulting me. _Me_. Not you. And it was about my grades. Hell, I get insulted about my grades every friggin' school day by Harris. You think that bothers me? I don't need you to fight my battles. And I don't need you taunting Lydia - she's got enough trouble as it is."

Jamie looked at him coolly. "Fine. As long as they leave me alone, I'll never bother your special snowflake or her asshole boyfriend again." Then she turned to stare out the front window. "We got everything we came here for. You can take me take back to the library now."

Stiles took a moment before starting the jeep. He'd convinced Jamie to stay out of Lydia and Jackson's way. So why did it feel like he should be checking off one for the loss column instead of a win?

* * *

On Wednesday at lunch, Stiles grabbed a coke to go with the cold pizza pocket he'd brought from home. Yes, it was disgusting but his Dad hadn't been grocery shopping this week. He headed towards his usual table. Scott and Allison were already there, heads together. Allison had been sitting with them a lot in the last week. He hoped that meant good things for Scott and Allison. Because realistically, who else were the two of them going to date? With secrets as dangerous as theirs, a relationship with an outsider was a non-starter. Stiles got depressed thinking how that left him with a dating pool limited to Lydia (taken) and Erica (AWOL). Any other options involved him turning gay.

His thoughts flicked to Jamie and whatever the heck had been happening between them at the meadow. His mouth felt dry as he remembered wrapping his arms around her slim waist and pulling her close to him. How soft her hands felt over his. And what the Hell had he been thinking with that goldenrod, anyway? Had he really been about to kiss her?

Stiles shook the memory away. Whatever signals he thought he was getting from Jamie that day, he'd been dead wrong. She'd been cool towards him all week in class and barely nodded to him in the halls. At first he thought she was mad at him. His words to keep her safe on the weekend _were_ kind of harsh. But on Tuesday she gave a kick-ass presentation on the caterpillars and chrysalides they'd collected. He hadn't even realized they had to _do_ a presentation. How did he miss that key fact in class? Stupid ADHD. When Harris questioned why Jamie did all the speaking she lied and said that Stiles had been the one to make the Powerpoint presentation so it was only fair that she do all the speaking. They both got A's. His first in a long time.

So she wasn't mad at him. It was worse. Other than taking up the noble cause of making sure the class idiot got a decent mark, she just didn't care. She was obviously making other friends and no longer needed the loser who'd been assigned to show her around school that first day. It was for the best anyway. He'd already established that dating in the foreseeable future was impossible. With that depressing thought in mind he dropped into a chair across from Scott and Allison.

"Where's Jamie?" Scott barked at him. He was getting more dog-like every day.

"I don't know, I guess she's found some new friends to hang out with. But good for her. We're not the safest crowd anyways," he added, sadly.

Scott and Allison glanced at each other, before Allison spoke up. "I went to grab a book from my car before coming here. She's eating lunch under a tree by the parking lot by herself."

Stiles felt a twinge of hurt. He wasn't sure if it was more for himself or Jamie. He was so awful that Jamie would rather be alone than hang out with him. She'd obviously been freaked out by what happened at the meadow and wanted to make sure he didn't mistake their relationship for anything romantic. But she'd gone way past friend-zoning him and stuck him in the I'm-so-horrified-at-you-thinking-you-have-a-chance -with-me-that-I-must-avoid-you-at-all-costs.

"What did you do?" Scott asked.

Stiles felt himself getting defensive. "Why does everyone always assume I screwed up?"

Scott and Allison just glanced at each other again and didn't say anything.

Stiles sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you what happened."

* * *

"...so you can see why I had to tell her to stay the Hell away from Lydia and Jackson."

"You took Lydia's side over hers." Allison said.

"No I didn't. There are no sides. Only Jamie staying safe by staying away from the whole bunch of us."

"Which you accomplished by taking Lydia's side," Scott added.

"I know you think this is for the best," Allison put her hand over his, "but Jamie is medic for a lacrosse team with three werewolves. She's already involved." Allison stood up and grabbed her lunch bag. "She might as well be involved and have someone to eat lunch with." On that thought, she left the cafeteria.

Stiles slumped down in his chair. "Sorry I made your girlfriend leave, dude."

Scott shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend and I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Stiles sighed. "Fine, let's go find Jamie and Allison." If Jamie was going to be hanging out with both Allison and the lacrosse team, there was no reason _he_ couldn't be friends with her. Justifying that to himself made him happier than he'd been since just before Lydia and Jackson showed up in the meadow. He would just have to make clear to Jamie that he was perfectly happy with the friend-zone so he didn't scare her off again.

* * *

Stiles spotted Jamie and Allison laughing together under the big oak tree on the front lawn. She had barely talked to him in three days. What was he going to say to her? He didn't have a choice. He had to confront the elephant in the room. Take the bull by the horns. He nervously cleared his throat. "I know why you haven't been eating with us."


	10. Chapter 10 - The Friend Zone

**Hello followers, if I could ask a favor, I don't have a beta reader, so if anyone wants to add any small comments on what you liked or didn't like in reviews that would be fantastic. ie. An especially funny line, or an 'Aw!' moment you liked, or anything that made you go 'Huh?' as I can sometimes be a bit too subtle in my writing, leaving readers going, 'WTF?' I don't expect anyone to spend a bunch of time on a critique, just anything that especially struck you while you were reading. Thanks!**

**And good news, I've caught up to where I have a few chapters that are pretty much already written, so the next few should come fairly quickly. Yay! Of course, I also figured I'd be finished this fic before season 3 started. *sigh* I also figured I'd be done in 10 chapters. *sigh***

**Oh shoot! I just realized that all the pretty triple *** I was using to indicate passage of time disappear when I save the document. Grrr. I'm surprised anyone has managed to keep reading. Now going back and replacing them with some HTML line that is apparently allowed in every chapter that has a break in time. *sigh again***

"I know why you haven't been eating with us." Stiles said.

Jamie looked up with wide eyes. Was it that obvious she was hurt by the way he'd acted after running into Lydia and Jackson? And was he really going to take the bull by the horns and confront her on it?

Stiles continued. "You challenged my ability to gross you out and now you're afraid to see what I do to win that challenge."

Ok, so he wasn't really taking the bull by the horns. Jamie giggled with relief. "I did not!"

Stiles raised the pitch of his voice and stuck one hip out. "My buddy Ryan is way grosser than you."

Jamie laughed. "I don't sound like that; or stand like that."

He raised his pitch even higher. "Yes you do."

Stiles unscrewed the lid of his coke. _What was he planning?_ He took a big chug and swallowed while blowing out through his nose at the same time. It all happened so quick. The coke squirting out both his nostrils, she and Allison shrieking, the moment of triumph on Stiles face that quickly turned to a grimace. "OW! That stings. Shit!"

Scott lay flat on his back laughing. "Dude, that was hardcore."

The time I accidentally did that with milk didn't hurt so much." Stiles rubbed his nose to take away the last of the tingling. Then he brightened. "If you think that was hardcore, wait until you see what I can do with a cold pizza pocket."

"No!" Jamie shouted.

Scott shrugged. "I'd kind of like to see it." Allison slapped him on the chest.

Stiles waved the pizza pocket at Jamie. "Poor...innocent...pizza pocket."

"Ok, ok, you win. You're the king of gross, the grossest of gross. Just please leave that innocent pizza pocket alone."

Stiles bit into the pizza pocket in triumph. He even kept his mouth closed while he was chewing.

* * *

The tree by the parking lot quickly became their new spot for lunch. Being the Girl Scout that she was, Jamie brought a picnic blanket after a few days. At the end of lunch, instead of giving it back to Jamie, they stored it in Stiles' jeep, as a promise to do it again tomorrow. Away from the prying eyes and judgement of the rest of the cafeteria, the four of them let their hair down, so to speak. Stiles, of course, led the way. And it turned out even Allison, who struck Jamie as the epitome of restraint, could do a hilarious Kristen Stewart imitation and laughed so hard at Scott's joke one day that coke came out _her_ nose. Stiles wanted to form a band called the Coke Snorters but the rest of them veto'd the idea. They'd probably end up at the school counsellor's office with "The Dangers of Drugs" brochures being forced upon them. That and the minor detail that none of them could sing or play an instrument.

Jamie hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. After the weirdness of what she was now calling "The Meadow Incident" things between her and Stiles were back to normal. Well, almost normal. He'd taken to calling her "buddy" and punching her in the shoulder when she teased him. It was exactly what she wanted, but it somehow felt bittersweet. Yes, she knew she couldn't have a relationship with Stiles, but he didn't have to make it so damned clear that she'd been friend-zoned.

A week passed and the next Friday Jamie and Stiles were sitting under the tree again. Allison and Scott had quickly scarfed down their lunches before heading to the library for some vague homework assignment they couldn't explain very well. Were they secretly getting back together? Jamie hoped so. They were so cute together - looking at each other with such longing when they thought no one was watching. She asked Stiles why the two of them broke up but his answer was as vague as the ex-couple's current homework project.

A loud bang startled Jamie and had her instinctively reaching for her dagger before she noticed Stiles' laughter. He was holding a popped lunch bag.

"Hulk smash," he grunted.

She relaxed a little but felt pretty stupid for her over reaction. "Oh please, the Hulk is the worst Avenger ever."

Stiles clutched his heart in mock distress. "How dare you! The Hulk is the best Avenger."

"No way, Iron Man is cooler."

"You're just saying that because you like Robert Downey Jr."

"Well, duh. And why did they cast Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark rather than Bruce Banner?" She paused before answering her own question. "Because Iron Man is awesome!"

"Iron Man is nothing without his suit."

"Which he built himself because he's a frickin' genius. As opposed to the non-jolly green giant who's so stupid he speaks in monosyllables and beats up his friends."

"First," Stiles held up one finger, "Iron Man and Captain America destroyed so many trees in their epic battle that Greenpeace organized a protest against them." He held up a second finger. "Second, the Hulk punching Thor was one of the funniest parts of the movie. And third, Iron Man can't do Hulk Noogies."

Trying to think up a counter argument to Stiles' first two points, Jamie automatically asked, "What's a Hulk Noogie?" _Stupid, stupid._

Immediately, she had an arm wrapped around her head, and Stiles was scrubbing the top of her head with his knuckles, saying, "Hulk mad. Hulk noogie."

She would have thought it was funny...

_ if there weren't more butterflies fluttering in her stomach than currently lived in their biology class,_

_ if those butterflies didn't remind her of everything she couldn't have in this life she was born into,_

_ if she wasn't painfully aware that Stiles wasn't experiencing those same butterflies._

Jamie escaped from Stiles' hold and pushed him away, only having to go a little bit ninja to do it. "Stop it!"

Stiles stepped back, looking surprised, and maybe a little hurt.

Her butterflies turned to guilt. It wasn't Stiles fault that he expected her to laugh it off like Scott would have. He was treating her like any other friend. Too bad the friend thing was bugging her right now. She smoothed down her hair and tried to make light of it. "Hey, I spent 10 whole seconds on this hair this morning. Don't mess with the Do."

Stiles didn't look like he was buying it, but she was saved by her ringing phone. Only one person had her phone number. "I gotta take this." She walked away from Stiles and answered the phone. "Hey, Mom."

"Hi Jamie, how's school today?"

"Fine..." Olivia never called to just chat.

"I've got to go to Atlanta today." Jamie could hear rustling in the background and knew Olivia was throwing clothes in a suitcase as she talked to her. "I should be back on Sunday."

Jamie felt a twang of homesickness for the home she'd never really had. "OK," she said quietly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Sorry to spring this on you last minute. But you can hang out with your new friends this weekend. Skip your training sessions."

"I suppose." She didn't tell Olivia she had no intention of inviting anyone to their house - even if she did put away the weird stuff and lock the basement door. At least she had the lacrosse game tonight. The rest of the weekend would go slowly.

"What's going on, Jamie?"

She tried to sound perky. "Nothing, I'm great."

She could hear the sigh through the phone. "Spit it out."

Geez, her Mom might be physically absent a lot of the time, but even on the phone she was way too perceptive. "How did you take it when you found out what Dad did?" She glanced up, and noted that she'd walked about 50 feet away from Stiles. She lowered her voice anyway. "When you found out about werewolves?"

Olivia gasped. "There's a boy! I bet it's that lab partner you told me about. The one on the lacrosse team with the dislocated shoulder. I could tell by your tone of voice when you talked about him."

_Holy Hell._ Jamie started speed walking even further away from Stiles, squeezing the phone to ear. This was why Olivia was so good at her job, and why teenage girls should never tell their moms anything. "There is nothing going on with any boy, especially Stiles," she whispered.

"That's right, Stiles, the one with the funny name. Why is there nothing going on especially with him? And where are my hiking socks?"

"Because he's made it clear that he only wants to be friends. And check the dryer."

"If he wants to be friends then he likes your personality, and you're beautiful so obviously looks isn't a problem. Oh, I found my socks. Thanks!" She heard the dryer door slam.

Jamie sighed. "You're my mom, you have to think I'm beautiful."

"I'm an unbiased observer, you're gorgeous, and I think you should ask him out."

"NO!" She shouted. "He doesn't like me that way, and even if he did that would be a terrible idea. In the circles you travel, you don't have to keep secrets any more. You don't understand what it's like. My life, trying to fit in as a normal high school student, is all about secrets!"

The phone went quiet and Jamie knew Olivia had finally stopped packing. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish your dad were here to talk to you about this. I went from being a teenage girl who's biggest problem was being able to afford the prom dress I wanted, to being saved from a strange animal by a mysterious boy who was really good with weapons. From the time I met your Dad, I never _didn't_ know about werewolves. So he never had to keep secrets from me. But your dad dated other girls before me. None of them knew about werewolves."

"And none of those relationships lasted. Surprise, surprise."

"Hey, kid, I like to think your dad and I fell in love because we were perfect for each other, and not just because I was the only girl who knew his secrets!"

Jamie thought of her parents' love for each other. "I know, I'm just cynical about my life today."

Olivia laughed. "You're a teenager. It's par for the course. But my point is that no one expects you to give up your life for this calling. You're supposed to have friends and date and get married and..." she laughed again. "...create the next generation of Silvers."

"Fantastic. When the time comes for me to start popping out babies I'll find a good male specimen for a one night stand. Any requests? Tall? Athletic? Doctor?"

"As your mother, I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear the words, 'one night stand' come out of your mouth." She paused. "I know I said I wanted you to be my eyes at the high school but you shouldn't have to be involved at your age. And if you're not involved you won't have any secrets to keep. Well, not unless people ask what your mom does for a living."

"Mom, no, I'm the only one that can do it. The two high school kids that disappeared just before we got here, Boyd and Erica, how will we figure out what happened to them without me?"

"If they were taken by older werewolves, it doesn't matter if you're keeping an eye out at school. Besides, you deserve a normal life, where your biggest worry is how to afford a prom dress."

"I'm not worried about prom at all. Because no one will be asking me."

"Jamie, you're my daughter and I love you but...you can be abrupt at ti-"

"That's not it!"

"And argumentative."

"I am not!"

"And you have a bit of a temper."

"ARRRRGH!"

"And that sometimes scares people off."

"So I'm screwed?"

"No, because you're also tough, independent, funny and smart as Hell. The right guy is going to fall head or heels for you. But first you have to let him in."

"That's not what's happening here."

"Maybe not, but promise me you'll think about it"

"Fine," Jamie grumbled. "I'll think about it."

"Great! Oh, I need to get going. I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe you'll have boy news for me."

Jamie shook her head. Olivia Silver: the eternal optimist. Guess she had to be to keep doing what she did. "I love you."

"Love you, too," her mom responded before hanging up. They ended every phone call like that, because you never knew which phone call might be your last.

The school bell rang. _Great_. Jamie spun on her heels to find Stiles standing a few feet away. "Geez, don't sneak up on people like that!" she snapped, wondering how much he'd overheard.

"Sorry, the bell was about to ring and you left your backpack with me." He held it out.

More guilt. Maybe her mom had a point about her scaring people off. She hesitated, wanting to apologize but not sure how to explain her bad mood without revealing too much.

"Uh, don't you have a Calculus test right now?" Stiles asked.

"Oh, crap!" she snatched her backpack from Stiles and took off across the front lawn, shouting a quick thanks over her shoulder. Apologies would have to wait.

* * *

That day after school, Jamie and Allison sat in the bleachers, cheering on the lacrosse team. They had their own spot, directly behind the bench where Finstock insisted Jamie sit in case there were any more injuries. Luckily, the game had been clean. Lydia sat a few rows back with some other girls. Jamie got the impression that Lydia was pissed off at Allison for hanging out with her. She felt a bad about that…but only a little.

"Wow, Stiles played great tonight!" Jamie said.

"He did," Allison agreed. "Jackson needs a few more injuries so Stiles gets more game time." She grinned. "Not that I'd wish that on him."

Jamie grinned back. "No, of course not. We wouldn't wish that on such a nice co-captain."

"You should tell him."

Jamie snorted._ Oh, very ladylike._ "Tell Jackson I hope he gets injured more often?"

Allison shook her long dark hair. "No, tell Stiles how well he played."

"He doesn't need me from that. His three goals will give him that message."

Allison shrugged. "For some reason you don't see Stiles the way the rest of us do, which is fantastic. But he's got a few self-esteem issues. He could use it spelled out for him."

If Allison was right and Stiles had some issues with self-esteem, her snapping at him whenever she was upset couldn't help. Jamie looked down at the field. The team was heading to the locker room, all except for Stiles who was still talking to Coach Finstock. She felt suddenly shy. "He's busy right now."

"Catch him in the locker room later."

She flushed red at the thought of complimenting him…naked. "Why don't I take my camera phone while I'm at it? Any particular photos you want? Scott was looking good tonight."

Now it was Allison's turn to blush. At least it wasn't just Jamie who got flustered at the thought of the boys in the locker room. "Ok, so give him a few minutes to get dressed. With his ADHD, Stiles gets distracted and is always the last one out anyway."

Jamie settled back on the cold bleacher. Maybe she would. She needed to apologize to him anyway. She heard a rumble in the distance. Storm coming. That wouldn't be a fun bike ride home. It might even be time to ask Stiles for a lift home.


	11. Chapter 11 - Storm Brewing

**Chapter 11 – Storm Brewing**

Scott grabbed his lacrosse bag off the bench and swung it over his shoulder. "I'll catch you tomorrow, Stiles. Great game tonight."

"Thanks. See ya." Last one in the locker room again. How the other guys managed to talk and change at the same time he didn't know. He stripped off his jersey, freezing at the click of the locker room door opening. He'd been attacked one too many times in this room. He slowly reached for his lacrosse stick and held it baseball bat style as he tiptoed to the edge of the lockers. He heard someone (or something) quietly walking towards him. Best defense is a good offense worked for him during the game. He leapt out, swinging the lacrosse stick.

And froze, mid-swing, inches from Lydia Martin's head.

"Jesus, you scared me, Lydia!"

Wide-eyed, Lydia stepped away from the lacrosse stick. "You're the one about to club me on the head."

Stiles lowered the stick. "Sorry, but what are you doing here?"

Lydia put her smile back on her face. "I wanted to compliment you on your game."

"Er, thanks?"

"You looked hot out there." Lydia had her eyes at his chest level.

Stiles suddenly _felt_ hot. But not in the way it seemed Lydia meant. But she couldn't possibly mean that because she was Lydia Martin and he was Stiles Stilinski. He cleared his throat and scrambled for his shirt. "So, where was Jackson tonight? Even though he's on the injured list he should have been at the game." He pulled the shirt over his head.

Lydia sighed. "He was angry about not being able to play. So I'm glad he stayed home. He's not…" She searched for her words. "He's not fun to be around when he's angry." She looked around nervously.

Stiles felt the familiar wave of protectiveness for Lydia rise up. An angry Jackson was bad enough back when he was human. But now that he was a werewolf who didn't care about controlling himself he was afraid of what Jackson could do to Lydia. "If he scares you, you shouldn't be with him."

She looked at him sadly. "Come on, Stiles. I'm not the type of girl who can be alone." She reached out to finish tugging down his shirt. She smoothed it across his chest with her hands. "But you're right – you usually are. I'm thinking of leaving him. But only if I wasn't going to be alone."

Stiles caught his breath. Sure he was the king of wishful thinking but even he wasn't _this_ delusional. Lydia Martin was actually hitting on him. And now that it was happening, his #1 emotion wasn't happiness, it was confusion. Which was weird. And confusing. Why did he feel like a door was closing instead of opening?

"I do need to ask you one question though. What's your relationship with Jamie Silver?"

Stiles frowned. "What?"

Lydia had her bottom lip stuck out now. "Because I don't like to share."

The conversation had officially entered the realm of the surreal. Because not only was Lydia hitting on him, but she was jealous of Jamie. Jamie, who laughed at his jokes half the time, but barely seemed to tolerate him the other half.

Lydia cocked her head to one side waiting for his answer. She pushed a sleeve up to scratch her left arm, revealing four finger-shaped bruises on her pale skin.

Stiles saw red. Jackson was actually hurting her. Not just emotionally this time, but physically. It didn't matter if Stiles wasn't a werewolf, he _would_ protect her, no matter what. If Lydia needed reassurance, he'd give her reassurance. Anything to get her away from Jackson. "Jamie and I are just friends."

"Friends? She only moved here two weeks ago. How close can you be?" Lydia pulled out her cell phone. "Maybe I should see how Jackson is doing."

Stiles panicked. "We're more like acquaintances. I was forced to show her around, remember? She doesn't know anyone else. I felt sorry for her."

Lydia tucked her cell phone back in her purse and reached out a hand to his. "I'm sure your little charity case is starting to meet other people now. So you won't need to spend as much time with her."

Lydia's hand felt cool in his. He felt a little ill for what he'd said about Jamie, but he tried to reassure himself that what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Meanwhile, Lydia was already being hurt. He grabbed his lacrosse bag and they headed for the door, together. But again, maybe because he had been attacked too many times in that room, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, through the wire of the equipment cage.

Although Lydia squeezed his hand tighter, he yanked his hand away, moving towards the equipment cage, feeling sicker by the second. He rounded the corner and there was Jamie, all wide blue-green eyes and freckles that stood out against her now sheet-white skin.

"Aw, shit, Jamie, let me explain." Stiles took a step closer.

She shoved him hard as she ran past, leaving Stiles to stumble back into the lockers as he helplessly watched her run out the door.

Stiles moved to follow her but Lydia blocked his way. "Well, that was awkward. But it's probably for the best. Now she can find her own friends."

"Lydia, I hurt Jamie. I've got to go find her."

Lydia didn't move. "What about me? I'm hurt, too." She pushed her sleeve up to scratch her arm again. And there were those bruises. Bruises that were obviously made by a human hand as they fit Lydia's fingers perfectly. Wait. They matched Lydia's delicate fingers perfectly. Not Jackson's man hands. Lydia's.

Stiles' blood ran cold. "What have you done, Lydia?" He dodged past her and out of the locker room. Hearing footsteps running down the hall to his right he followed them. Damn, Jamie could run fast.

A spatter of wind-tossed rain hit his face as he emerged from the school. He scanned the dark parking lot. His jeep and Lydia's car were the only two left. But that wasn't where Jamie would be. He ran past his jeep and there she was, crouched by the bike rack, scrambling to unlock the one remaining bike with shaking hands.

"I'm so sorry."

The lock clicked open and Jamie unhooked it from the bike and threw it in her bag. "Screw you." The rain got harder in response, leaving shiny wet marks on Jamie's face, reflecting in the street light as she swung her leg over the bike.

"You can't ride home in this rain. Let me drive you. We can talk."

Jamie's stormy eyes met Stiles'. "I don't need your _charity_."

The way she spit out the word 'charity' was like a punch in the gut. The 'screw you' he could take. The 'screw you' was angry. But this was hurt. And it felt like his whole heart was ripping out of his chest knowing he was the cause. "It's not charity if I'm helping a friend."

"A friend?" she shouted. "I'm barely an acquaintance, remember?"

"I didn't mean it. It's hard to explain but Lydia just needed to hear –"

"So you lied for Lydia's sake?"

Stiles relaxed a little. Maybe she would understand. "Yes, I—"

"Friends don't throw friends to the wolves for a chance to get laid. So screw you, and screw Lydia and you two can go screw each other."

Then again, maybe she wouldn't understand. "Jamie, wait!"

But she was already pulling out of the parking lot, hunched over her beat up bike, pedalling like mad as the rain battered her shoulders.

Lydia appeared beside him. "What do you keep in this bag, bricks?" She dropped his lacrosse bag at his feet and handed him his lacrosse stick.

Lydia Martin carrying a guy's lacrosse bag like some sort of minion. "What kind of game are you playing, Lydia?"

She stepped closer to him. "No game."

"Really? He dropped his stick, reached for her left wrist and pushed her sleeve up with his other hand. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He wrapped his hand over her bruises – the bruises that didn't in any way match his, or any other guy's hand.

Lydia's pupils were wide. "I like you. But I had to be sure you were 100%. Because if I was dating you, and _you_ broke up with _me_…" Her words faded as even she realized how it sounded. But then she glanced at his hands gripping her arm and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "I will make you forget you ever heard the name Jamie Silver."

Stiles dropped her arm as if it was burning him. Oh my God, she liked this. No wonder she and Jackson were together. Seriously? If only he'd treated her like crap, he could have had a Taylor Swift type relationship years ago. "Goodbye, Lydia."

"If you leave now, don't think I'm breaking up with Jackson for you!" she shouted.

Stiles grabbed his stick and his bag and tossed them in the back of his jeep. The wind swirled around him, rain stinging his face as it came sideways at him. _Jamie. He had to find her._

He didn't look back.


	12. Chapter 12 - Tears from Heaven

**So what does everyone think of the new season? Derek's new hot-for-teacher says they're doing The Crucible this year in English. Hey! I called that in chapter 2. And even though I just put a few lines of banter between Stiles and the English teacher in my story, I could totally see the new character saying them. Freaky!**

Jamie choked back a sob as she squinted into the driving rain. She was _not_ crying over Stiles Stilinski. No way. She was crying over her own stupidity at thinking this school would be any different than her last one. She could use her Mommy right now. Too bad she was in Atlanta in negotiations tonight. The wind blew her sideways and she swerved into the road. She glanced over her shoulder. Headlights were coming up behind her. Good thing they hadn't been any closer or she might have been dead now. She squeezed closer to the gravel shoulder to let the vehicle pass but the jeep rolled up beside her and kept pace. _Hell_.

"Get in!"

Jamie kept pedaling. "No."

"Please, it's not safe biking in this storm." As if to emphasize his point, lightning lit up the sky, revealing Stiles' worried face as he crept along beside her.

Thunder crashed, drowning out her less than PG response. She took one hand off the handlebar to give Stiles the finger while wobbling the bike around a large puddle, almost side-swiping his jeep in the process.

The jeep swerved away, then sped up, red tail lights disappearing around a corner. There, she showed him. So why did it feel like part of her had disappeared around the corner with that jeep? Whatever. Better to know now. She was losing focus anyway. She'd been here two weeks and in spite of her nosing around she hadn't learned a thing.

She leaned into the corner she could barely make out with the 10 foot visibility. The rain had long since soaked through her jeans and was now saturating her jacket. But by tomorrow her clothes would be dry and she'd refocus her efforts on-

The hulking form of a jeep parked sideways across the road loomed out of darkness. A wet Stiles leaned against the door, arms crossed. She squeezed the brakes for all they were worth, skidding sideways to a stop a few feet from him. To his credit, he didn't flinch...much. "Get in."

"Are you crazy?!" she shouted.

"No crazier than you."

"If a car comes around the corner you'll be dead."

"Then you'd better get in quickly." He walked to the back and popped the hatch.

"Move your jeep."

"As soon as you get in." The rain streaming down his face did nothing to disguise the determination his eyes held.

It dawned in her that she wasn't going to win this one. Besides, continuing to refuse a ride in this storm just made it seem like she cared too much. And she didn't. Growling, she flung her bike in the back of the jeep with more force than was necessary. She hoped she scratched something. Then she splashed through the puddles to climb into the passenger seat. It was soaked in seconds. "I hope your jeep grows mold."

Stiles smiled. "It wouldn't be the worst thing that's ended up in here."

Jamie glared at him as he started the engine. "Don't even try to funny your way out of this. The only reason I agreed to get in this jeep is because death by 18-wheeler is a slightly worse option."

Stiles kept his eyes on the road. "Great. If I keep apologizing, maybe by next week I'll be less horrible then ebola."

"What did I say about joking?"

Stiles sighed. "Sorry. It's how I cope when I don't know what to say. It's killing me that I hurt you and I can't go back in time and undo it and I don't know how to fix it going forward."

"Try not talking." Jamie wrapped her arms around herself. She really did need him to stop talking. He sounded so friggin' sincere. It was messing with her mind. Every second she doubted his utter and complete assholery made her feel like a sucker. She stared out the window for a few minutes, watching the dark trees whip around in the wind. She couldn't remember being around Stiles longer than 30 seconds without him talking. He must be putting in a momentous effort to stay silent. Great, now he was respecting her wishes. Asshole!

"Um, Jamie?"

_Ah-ha! She knew he couldn't stay silent for long. "_WHAT?"

"Where do you live?"

Jamie put her hands to her face. No matter how many times Stiles had offered to drive her home, she'd always turned him down, come up with excuses. Now he was going to see the shack she lived in with her Mom. Why today, of all days? She pulled her hands away from her face. Actually, today was a perfect day for him to see where she lived. Yesterday she cared what Stiles thought. Today, she didn't. "County Road #6, just past the stone bridge, on the left."

Stiles pulled to the shoulder to do a u-turn.

Jamie looked around in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"We passed your road a mile back while I was having an internal debate as to whether I should ask where you lived or shut up like you wanted."

She sighed. "Since you've already broken the seal of silence I do have a question for you."

He looked at her earnestly. "Ask me anything!"

"What would have happened tomorrow if I hadn't overheard? When you and Lydia came into the cafeteria at lunch, hand-in-hand, and I'd be there inconveniently sitting at your table with Scott. How would you have treated me in front of Lydia?"

Stiles' mouth opened but no words came out. This must be some sort of Stiles record –silence twice in one day. "I…uh…"

Jamie sunk deeper in her seat. "Don't strain yourself. Question answered."

Stiles turned onto County Road #6. "No, I never thought that far ahead. I wasn't thinking straight when I said those stupid things to Lydia. I would have treated you the same and I would have had to deal with Lydia about it."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I overheard, so you don't have to deal with the awkward table chatter tomorrow.

Stiles stared out the front window. "Nope, at least there's that."

_Ouch._ He apologizes profusely, and drives her home, but at the same time, he admits he's relieved he doesn't have to deal with her sitting at his table at lunch. Jamie folded her arms across her chest and went back to staring out the window.


	13. Chapter 13 - Eye of the Storm

Stiles pulled into the first laneway past the stone bridge. The rain had stopped but the rain-soaked trees that overhung the narrow lane dripped on the jeep with loud pings. He didn't realize she lived this far out of town, in the woods. _Hell_. All those times he'd offered her a ride home and she'd turned him down. He never would have let her bike home in the dark if he'd known where she lived.

He slowed down as the house and its welcoming porch light came into view. The house was tiny by Beacon Hills standards, but the yard was well kept and compared to Derek's condemned property, this house was luxury.

Jamie was out of the jeep before Stiles even came to a complete stop.

Stiles slammed on the brakes and followed. "I didn't bring you home safely so you could break your leg in your own yard in your efforts to escape me."

"Just give me my bike." She wouldn't make eye contact.

Stiles felt like he was losing something he never knew he had. His captive audience with Jamie in the jeep was over and he had a pretty good idea she was never going to speak to him again at school. He wanted to draw out his time with her but was out of ideas. He considered pretending he couldn't get the back hatch open but that would just make her angrier. He popped the hatch and Jamie yanked her bike out. He walked beside her as as she marched her bike across the yard towards an old barn set back from the house.

"I'm home, safe and sound. You don't need to follow me."

"It's not safe out here in the woods. There have been animal attacks."

She looked at him sharply. "The mood I'm in, I dare something to attack me."

As if on cue, there was a low growl. _Oh, please let that be thunder._ Stiles scanned the tree line. Red eyes glowed back at him. An alpha. And since he hadn't pissed Derek off in at least a week, this was probably one that wanted to kill them instead of just use him as a chew toy. He picked up a heavy stick as he heard Jamie's bike clatter to the ground.

He stepped in front of her. "Run for the house, don't look back, call Scott and Allison."

A warm hand squeezed his and he looked back to see Jamie's steely resolve. She wasn't running without him. He didn't have time to argue, and really, he wasn't that crazy about a plan that included him dying. He gave a slight nod and whispered, "Now!"

They spun and ran, Stiles reaching for her hand again to pull Jamie along with his longer stride, and Jamie, to steady them when Stiles stumbled. Together they leapt onto the front porch, hearing the snarls closing in. Bracing herself against him, Jamie kicked in the front door and yanked Stiles into the house with her. Together, they slammed the door shut.

"You kicked in the door," Stiles gasped, shouldering the door, as the alpha slammed against it.

"Keys would have taken too long."

"But now the lock's broken."

"It was the weak lock. We have others." Jamie started flipping a series of deadbolts and chain locks. For the first time, he noticed a small dagger in her hand. _What the Hell?_

The small window beside the door shattered and a huge clawed paw reached in. Jamie shielded her eyes against the flying glass as Stiles smashed the groping paw with the stick he was still holding. The alpha's wrist slammed against the jagged glass of the window frame and blood spurted. The hand disappeared with a roar that rattled the pictures on the wall.

Then, silence. They stared at each other, wide-eyed for a moment before Jamie lunged for the hall table. Yanking open a drawer, she grabbed an odd-shaped gun and handed it to Stiles. "It's a tranquilizer gun. The closer to the heart you shoot him, the faster he'll go down. Please tell me you have years of video game first-person shooter experience."

He dropped his stick for what was potentially the better weapon. "Tranquilizer? I don't know if a tranquilizer can even take down an alpha."

Jamie's eyes narrowed. "You told me it was animal attacks."

He countered, "And you told me you aren't related to the Argents."

She sucked in a breath. "So Allison knows? Funny, she doesn't seem like a trained killer."

"Until two minutes ago I would have said the same thing about you."

The sound of shattering glass upstairs interrupted their revelations. If they got out of this alive, he had a lot of questions for Jamie Silver.

They crept to the bottom of the stairs. Jamie gripped her dagger tightly. Stiles raised the tranquilizer gun. _Call of Duty, don't fail me now. _"Jamie, if I don't get another chance to tell you, I'm really, really sorry for what I said and I didn't mean any of it."

"Stiles, if you help me survive today, I might even forgive you." She flashed him a hasty smile that quickened his heart even more than it already was.

With a roar, a dark form leapt down the stairs, knocking Jamie to the ground. _No!_ Stiles fired and the dart hit the alpha's shoulder. It barely flinched. He pulled the trigger again. Click.

_One shot. Seriously?_

The alpha had a struggling Jamie pined to the floor. She still clutched the dagger but her hand was trapped under one giant paw. The giant werewolf leaned closer to Jamie, opening his jaws to reveal its wicked fangs. Stiles threw the gun and it bounced off the alpha's head. The monster paused, staring at Stiles with glowing red eyes that promised he would be next.

Jamie got one leg free and managed to kick the wolf between the legs. It howled and grabbed her leg with claws sinking deep into her thigh. Jamie screamed as lines of blood soaked through her jeans.

For the second time that day, Stiles saw red. He grabbed the stick he'd dropped and started wailing on the alpha's head. Over and over he swung.

Snarling, the werewolf twisted and took a swipe at him. Stiles dodged before coming back swinging. But the red glow in the alpha's eyes faded to black while the snarl was replaced by a stunned expression. The huge wolf collapsed on Jamie, covering her completely.

Stiles scrambled to roll the body off Jamie. Jamie's dagger was sunk in to the hilt, in the wolf's chest, left side.

Jamie had her eyes squeezed shut in pain. He ran his hands over her body searching for more wounds. He thought of Allison's Mom, committing suicide rather than live as a werewolf. He would not let that happen to Jamie. "I don't think you were bitten. But even if you were, it's OK. I can help you through it. Werewolves can lead long, happy, non-murderous lives."

He reached her clawed leg. Her blue jeans stained almost black from the blood had 6-inch gashes in them and blood was starting to pool on the floor. _Aw, Hell._ He bit his lip to hold off panic and pulled off his t-shirt to press it against her leg.

Her breath hissed out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing." He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. "I'm calling 911."

She gripped his arm. "You know I can't go to the hospital."

"You have no idea the weird shit Beacon Hills Memorial has seen. You're going."

"Please." She gave him a pleading look. "There's a first aid kit in the kitchen, the cupboard next to the fridge. I can talk you through it."

"Talk me through what? You expect me to give you stitches? Because you're going to need a lot of them. And if you make me do this I will cry and the stitches will be crooked and that beautiful leg of yours will be scarred for life."

Jamie blinked a few times and Stiles started dialing with one hand while still holding his t-shirt on her leg with the other.

"No!"

"I'm calling Scott. His Mom's a nurse. She can make a house call."

"But how will we explain..." Her voice trailed off and Stiles could almost see her connecting the dots, "Scott. You said if I was bitten you could help me through it. You've done it before."

"Yes, and if you stab my best friend with that dagger of yours I'll be very angry." The phone was ringing.

Jamie started a laugh that ended in a cough. "Noted."

The phone clicked. "Hello?"

"Scott! We were attacked by an alpha. Jamie is cut up pretty bad. We need your Mom. We're on County Road 6, first lane on the left after the stone bridge."

"Crap! MOM! WEREWOLF INJURY. WE GOTTA GO!" Stiles heard a muffled response. "We'll be there in 10 minutes."

Leaving Jamie for a moment, he grabbed a pillow off the couch in the living room. "They'll be here soon." He gently lifted her head to nestle the pillow under it. "What else can I do?"

"Hold my hand."

He picked up her hand again and kissed it. "I can do that."

**Tonight's episode was crazy! I was going to post this chapter tomorrow but after watching I feel the need of posting tonight. It's weird writing while the show is in season. I'm more of a writing while it's in hiatus girl. Now I feel like I'm writing a moving target. But a few freaky coincidences I'm seeing:**

**1) See, I knew Stiles would have a problem with stitches.**

**2) Even though I wrote this particular chapter ages ago (my slow updates are due to delays in writing the in between chapters) I decided a couple weeks ago to add an author's note saying for everyone to picture the alpha that gets offed here as a particular one since I don't think he'll last long on the show. Hmm, what else can I predict so it comes true on the show?**

**Thanks so much for the reviews! You have no idea how happy I am that you're feeling bad for Jamie (sadistic, aren't I?) It means you're invested in my OC which is often tough to achieve in fanfic. You inspire me to write more!**

**And a warning: In the face of death, it may seem like all is forgiven but in the cold light of day, Stiles will still have some work ahead of him to gain Jamie's forgiveness and trust. Hmm, I may need to add angst to this story summary.**


	14. Chapter 14 - Interlude

Scott peeked in the door to Jamie's room. After hours of watching her, Stiles had finally fallen asleep, on the floor, slumped against the bed, with one hand still reaching up to hold hers. _Thank God._ Stiles had been a neurotic mess, frantically calling he and his mom every time Jamie sighed or wrinkled her brow in her sleep. Although they didn't have time to get into it, something had happened before the alpha attack. Something Stiles felt horribly guilty about. Scott didn't know what Jamie's story was but he was glad she was OK and that his best friend would have a chance to make up for whatever he did.

His mom, squeezed in the doorway beside him. "Stiles really cares for this girl, doesn't he?" she whispered.

"I think he does."

"They make a cute couple."

Scott took his Mom's hand. For everything she had learned in the last few weeks - about werewolves and alphas and kanimas and hunters and whatever the heck Lydia was - she'd been unwavering in her support. Now here she was stitching up this girl and monitoring her overnight because Stiles needed her to do it.

"They aren't a couple...yet."

**OK, that was a completely cheap chapter, wasn't it? 200 stinkin' words? And totally breaking my pattern of alternating Stiles/Jamie chapters. But when I was first developing this story, I had a vision of Stiles passed out from exhaustion on the floor beside an unconscious Jamie. I wanted to include it even though I had to change the POV.**

**To make up for it, I'm updating chapter 15 at the same time.**


	15. Chapter 15 - After the Storm

Jamie blinked open her eyes, but everything was foggy. It was daylight so she should have had enough sleep. Wait. Was it a school day? She couldn't remember. Wow, she really needed a shower and a coffee to wake up. She rolled on her side and gasped at the stabbing pain in her leg before falling back on the bed.

Before she had time to process how she got that way, a head popped up beside the bed, "Oh my God, you're awake. Are you in pain? How's your leg?" Any other time it would have startled her but her reaction time wasn't fast enough to be startled. Instead she felt the knot in her stomach ease a little as she recognized Stiles, rumpled clothes and short hair pointed in odd directions like he'd slept on it funny.

"I'm groggy and my leg hurts like Hell," she croaked out. "Stiles, did you sleep on my floor?

He ran a hand across his face. "I know I'm not your favorite person right now but someone had to stay in the room with you. Scott's mom is, you know, too old to be sleeping on floors, and I didn't think you'd want the first person you saw after your morphine induced stupor to be a werewolf, so that left me."

All the memories of the previous night flooded her at once. She'd killed an alpha. Scott was a werewolf. Stiles...the locker room...Lydia. Jamie's head was swimming and her stomach churned. She couldn't deal with this right now. "Get out," she said quietly.

"I'm not supposed to leave you alone."

"Get out!" she shouted, even as it made her stomach heave.

Stiles scrambled backwards out the door as Jamie rolled onto her uninjured side, grabbed the small garbage pail beside her desk and threw up the contents of her stomach. Then she collapsed back on the bed and closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, there was a tap at her door. "It's Mrs. McCall. May I come in."

Jamie nodded her head weakly before realizing she'd have to actually verbalize a response. "Come in."

Mrs. McCall peeked in the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty crappy," Jamie admitted, before realizing a nurse might want a more detailed description. "My leg isn't bad, maybe a 3 on the pain scale until I move it. Then it's an 8. But I just threw up and the bed is spinning."

"Well, I could decrease your pain with more morphine, but that would probably make the nausea and the bed spins worse. Your call."

Jamie liked that Scott's mom laid it out for her like that. "I'll skip it. I hate throwing up more than I hate pain."

Mrs. McCall nodded. "Alright, then let's look at that wound." She pulled back the covers to reveal an odd pair of jeans - one leg intact while the other was cut off to expose an 8 inch square of gauze taped precisely in place across her thigh.

Jamie took a ragged breath as she remembered what she would find under that gauze and the pain that caused it.

Mrs. McCall gently peeled back the tape, exposing four angry red lines, criss crossed by black stitching. Jamie tried counting the stitches but lost count on the second gash. _Wow_. She didn't know what else to think. It didn't even seem like her leg she was looking at. That allowed her the clinical detachment to note the lack of puckering and folds to the skin.

"Thanks, Mrs. McCall, the stitches look good."

"Well, as a nurse I don't normally do stitches, so it's a good thing I sew as a hobby." She smoothed on some antibiotic cream before replacing the gauze and tape. "And now the next challenge...getting you to the bathroom."

Jamie thought about the bathroom down the hall. Right now it seemed about a mile away. But she gritted her teeth, put an arm over the shoulder that Mrs. McCall offered and slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She hopped on her good leg but the impact jarred her bad leg and her vision started to narrow from the searing pain.

As she collapsed, Mrs. McCall stumbled and Jamie fell back onto the bed. "Well, that didn't work," she said. "I'll call Stiles to help me."

"No...wait." Jamie said. "Get Scott instead."

Mrs. McCall gave her a puzzled look before heading towards the door, where she hesitated before spinning back towards Jamie. "OK, I know this isn't any of my business, but well, it's kind of my business because it involves Scott and Stiles and with all the weird things that went on over the last year I wish I'd asked more questions at the time instead of just assuming it was typical teenage stuff that I'd rather not know about, so I'm going to ask anyway." She paused to take a breath. "I love my son, but considering that you were just about killed by a werewolf last night, why do you want a werewolf helping you right now instead of the boy who pretty much saved your life."

Jamie sunk deeper into the pillows. How could she explain that the thought of seeing Stiles after what she overheard in the locker room made her physically ill? And that even knowing what she knew, she still didn't want him to see her whacked out on morphine, with uncombed hair and puke breath. And that she hated herself for caring what he thought.

No, she wasn't about to explain that.

Instead, she focused on Scott, who even from the first day of school, had been nothing but kind to her. Wolves were loyal like that. She wished she could say the same thing about people. She pasted on a smile. "I don't have a problem with werewolves, only werewolves who try to kill me."

Mrs. McCall looked at her suspiciously. "As much as I hate to admit it, I slept with my bedroom door locked the first couple nights after finding out Scott was a werewolf, and here you're ready for him to carry you down the hall."

"My best friend growing up was a werewolf. Scott reminds me of him. I trust him."

The older woman couldn't keep the surprise off her face. "Your hunter family didn't have a problem with you being friends with a werewolf?"

Well, that explained why she didn't have her dagger any more. "We're not hunters, well technically we are but we're...well, it's a long story."

Mrs. McCall shook her head. "I'm sure the boys are going to want to hear that story. I'm just hoping that means you won't be trying to kill my son any time soon. But it still doesn't explain why you want Scott helping you and not Stiles.

_These moms. They were so persistent._ She decided to go for the low hanging fruit. "Since he's a werewolf, Scott is stronger than Stiles. I don't want to be dropped again. Um, no offense."

"No offense, but you don't weigh that much." Mrs. McCall wasn't buying it. "Who do you think picked you up off the floor, carried you up the stairs, and put you in this bed...by himself...because he was afraid you'd freak out if you woke up and found Scott carrying you."

"Oh." Jamie felt her cheeks grow hot at the intimacy of Stiles' actions. Thank God she'd been unconscious. Then again, she hoped she hadn't had her mouth hanging open and drooling. Aaaaand once again she hated herself for caring. She took a deep breath. "Let's just say the alpha wasn't the only one who hurt me last night."

Mrs. McCall's face softened and she sat down on the bed beside Jamie. "Stiles cares about you, you know. Whatever he did, he's a good boy, with a big heart."

Jamie shook her head. "He feels guilty. That's it."

"Working at the hospital, I've seen guilty consciences - drivers asking about accident victims, guys who dared their buddies into becoming Darwin awards - and what I saw last night was a lot more than just guilt. You were unconscious, you didn't see Stiles. He was frantic. At one point I came into the living room and-"

Scott burst in the door. "I hear someone needs taxi service to get down the hall."

"Hooray! Because I really have to pee." _And hooray for the change of topic._ Jamie reached her arms up and Scott bent down and picked her up like she weighed nothing. _OK, not Stiles but still slightly awkward_. "So, I'm trying to figure out if I've ever said anything embarrassing within range of your werewolf hearing."

Scott smirked as he carried her through the doorway. "Only a few things."

Jamie groaned. She had been pretty tight lipped about Stiles to Allison, but she did make the comment about taking locker room photos of Scott for Allison last night. _Oops_. She'd have to apologize to Allison for that one. Oh, wait. Now she had a pretty good idea of why Scott and Allison weren't still together. Argent and werewolf. That can't have been easy.

They all had a lot to talk about.


	16. Chapter 16 - Waiting

**So I'm finally liking Lydia this season…and I've made her a bitch in my story. Dang. AU. AU.**

_A few minutes earlier:_

Stiles paced the living room, almost tripping over Scott who was sitting on the couch with his legs stretched out. He hadn't left Jamie's side all night, and now being a floor away from her was freaking him out. "What's happening up there?"

"Shut up! I can't hear over your yapping."

Stiles stopped pacing. "I don't yap. Dogs yap. You may yap. But I don't..." his voice trailed off at Scott's glare. "Shutting up now."

Scott squinted in concentration. Then he smiled. "The stitches look good."

Stiles collapsed on the couch. "OK, then."

Scott winced.

Stiles grabbed his arm. "What happened?"

"Um, my Mom was trying to help Jamie up and she fell."

Stiles leapt up but Scott held him back. Trying to pull away, he shouted at Scott. "What the Hell, man?"

Scott hesitated. "Jamie doesn't want your help."

_Ouch_. He'd spent a long time thinking of how hard he was going to have to work to make it up to Jamie. It was going to be a lot harder if she wouldn't see him. "I know she's mad at me, but your mom can't lift her. She needs my help."

Scott shook his head but he wouldn't make eye contact.

There was something Scott wasn't telling him. "Spit it out!"

"She's, um, asking for me."

Stiles felt the air go out of his lungs. He stared out the front window, thinking about just how much Jamie had to hate him to prefer a werewolf helping her over him. A minute later he noticed Scott still sitting there. "Why aren't you going upstairs?" he snapped. Stupid. This was his fault, not Scott's.

"Shh! My mom is interrogating her if you want answers."

Stiles started pacing again. "No...it's wrong...yes...if I can figure out how to make it up to her it's worth it...but I shouldn't do it this way...but she must know about werewolf hearing, right?"

He sunk back onto the couch, running his hands through his hair as he sorted through the moral quandary of eavesdropping via werewolf.

"What the Hell did you do?" Scott furrowed his brow. "But don't worry, my mom is defending your sorry ass." Then his eyes went wide. "Dude, I think my mom is going to tell Jamie you were crying last night."

Stiles panicked and shoved the wolf off the couch. "Stop her!"

Scott disappeared up the stairs at a blur.

_Shit_.

* * *

Three hours later, they'd increased their numbers at the house. Derek had taken the alpha to bury him and Isaac and Chris Argent were circling the perimeter of the house. Now that was an odd team. Jamie had called her mom, who was rushing back from Atlanta. Then she fell asleep for a couple hours but was awake now with Allison upstairs with her.

Stiles sunk lower into the couch. He was half expecting Allison to put an arrow through him when she came downstairs if Scott's reaction to his locker room story was any indication.

Scott came out of the kitchen where he'd been scrounging for food. "Come on, we're being paged."

Stiles jumped up. "Jamie is willing to see me?"

"She's willing to see _us_."

"I'll take what I can get." Stiles headed for the stairs.

Allison met them at the top. If looks could kill. At least she didn't have her crossbow with her. "Jamie wants to tell us what she and her mom are doing in Beacon Hills. You will not mention the locker room, you will not apologize, you will not joke around." She paused. Maybe it's best if you just don't speak."

Stiles hung his head. "Fine." He had to accept that he didn't deserve to have Jamie forgive him. He was such an idiot. "Damn it! If only I hadn't fallen for those bruises."

Allison looked puzzled. "What bruises?"

"The ones Lydia did to herself to make me think that Jackson was hurting her. The stupid bruises that made me temporarily lose my mind and tell Lydia everything she wanted to hear in a misplaced effort to get her away from Jackson to 'protect' her."

Allison's eyes went wide. "I didn't know that part. I just thought..."

"What?"

"I don't know about Allison," Scott interrupted, "I just thought you were trying to get laid."

Stiles punched him in the shoulder.

Of course Scott didn't even feel it. Stupid werewolf. "You've had a crush on Lydia for years," Scott said. "You finally got a shot."

"I don't want a shot with Lydia! I want Jamie." And there it was. What had been building since the day Jamie walked into homeroom. What he'd been denying for weeks because it could never happen. "I like Jamie. I really like her," Stiles said quietly. "And I blew it before I even admitted it to myself."

Allison squeezed his arm. "I'll talk to Jamie, but right now I want to find out if she's my long lost cousin."

They filed into the bedroom to find Jamie sitting up in bed with a pile of pillows behind her head. Stiles drank in the sight of her, reassuring himself that she seemed stronger than she had that morning. They briefly made eye contact before Jamie quickly looked away. He missed her smile already.

"So...do you want to hear the long story or the short story?" she asked.


End file.
